fjiin 


n '»! 


THE  HOUSE  QF 
THE  CQMBRAYS 

-BY  G'LE  NOTRE- 


House  of  t|)e  Combraps 

By  G.  LE  NOTRE 

V       •'• 
Translated  from  the  French   by 

Mrs.    JOSEPH    B.     GILDER' 


New  York 

DoDD,  Mead  &  Company 
1902 


Copyright,  igoa,  by 
DooD,  Mead  &  Company 


First  Edition  Published 
October,  1901 


Contents 

PREFACE vU 

I.     THE  TREACHERY  OF  JEAN-PIERRE 

QUERELLE i 

II.     THE    CAPTURE   OF   GEORGES   CA- 

DOUDAL 21 

III.  THE  COMBRAYS          ....  44 

IV.  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  D'ACHE       .  68 
V.     THE  AFFAIR  OF  QUESNAY       .         .  loi 

VI.  THE  YELLOW  HORSE         .  .  .140 

VII.  MADAME  ACQUET     .         .  .  .178 

VIII.  PAYING  THE  PENALTY     .  .  .216 

IX.  THE  FATE  OF  D'ACHfi      .  .  .246 

X.  THE  CHOUANS  SET  FREE  .  .275 


50S2r^ 


PREFACE 


AN  OLD  TOWER 

One 'evening  in  the  winter  of  1868  or  1869,  my 
father-in-law,  Moisson,  with  whom  I  was  chatting 
after  dinner,  took  up  a  book  that  was  lying  on  the 
table,  open  at  the  page  where  I  had  stopped  reading, 
and  said : 

"  Ah  !  you  are  reading  Mme.  de  la  Chanterie  ?  " 

"Yes,"  I  replied.  "A  fine  bookj  do  you  know 
it  ? " 

"  Of  course  !     I  even  know  the  heroine." 

"  Mme.  de  la  Chanterie  !  " 

" By  her  real  name  Mme.  de  Combray.     I 

lived  three  months  in  her  house." 

"  Rue  Chanoinesse  ?  " 

"  No,  not  in  the  Rue  Chanoinesse,  where  she  did 
not  live,  any  more  than  she  was  the  saintly  woman 
of  Balzac's  novel ; — but  at  her  Chateau  of  Tournebut 
d'Aubevoye  near  Gaillon  !  " 

"  Gracious,  Moisson,  tell  me  about  it ;  "  and  with- 
out further  solicitation,  Moisson  told  me  the  following 
story : 

"  My  mother  was  a  Brecourt,  whose  ancestor  was 


viii      '"  '      '-'PREFACE 

a  bastard  of  Gaston  d'Orleans,  and  she  was  on  this 
account  a  royalist,  and  very  proud  of  her  nobility. 
The  Brecourts,  who  were  fighting  people,  had  never 
become  rich,  and  the  Revolution  ruined  them  com- 
pletely. During  the  Terror  my  mother  married 
Moisson,  my  father,  a  painter  and  engraver,  a  plebeian 
but  also  an  ardent  royalist,  participating  in  all  the 
plots  for  the  deliverance  of  the  royal  family.  This 
explains  the  mesalliance.  She  hoped,  besides,  that 
the  monarchy,  of  whose  reestablishment  she  had  no 
doubt,  would  recognise  my  father's  services  by  en- 
nobling him  and  reviving  the  name  of  Brecourt,  which 
was  now  represented  only  in  the  female  line.  She 
always  called  herself  Moisson  de  Brecourt,  and  bore 
me  a  grudge  for  using  only  my  father's  name. 

"  In  1804,  when  I  was  eight  years  old,  we  were 
living  on  the  island  of  Saint-Louis,  and  I  remember 
very  well  the  excitement  in  the  quarter,  and  above  all 
in  our  house,  caused  by  the  arrest  of  Georges  Ca- 
doudal.  I  can  see  my  mother  anxiously  sending  our 
faithful  servant  for  news ;  my  father  came  home  less 
and  less  often ;  and  at  last,  one  night,  he  woke  me  up 
suddenly,  kissed  me,  kissed  my  mother  hastily,  and  I 
can  still  hear  the  noise  of  the  street  door  closing  be- 
hind him.     We  never  saw  him  again  !  " 

"  Arrested  ? " 

"  No,  we  should  have  known  that,  but  probably 
killed  in  flight,  or  dead  of  fatigue  and  want,  or  drowned 
in  crossing  some  river — like  many  other  fugitives, 
whose  names  I  used  to  know.  He  was  to  have  sent 
us  news  as  soon  as  he  was  in  safety.     After  a  month's 


PREFACE  ix 

waiting,  my  mother's  despair  became  alarming.  She 
seemed  mad,  committed  the  most  compromising  acts, 
spoke  aloud  and  with  so  little  reserve  about  Bonaparte, 
that  each  time  the  bell  rang,  our  servant  and  I  ex- 
pected to  see  the  police. 

"A  very  different  kind  of  visitor  appeared  one 
fine  morning.  He  was,  he  said,  the  business  man  of 
Mme.  de  Combray,  a  worthy  woman  who  lived  in 
her  Chateau  of  Tournebut  d'Aubevoye  near  Gaillon. 
She  was  a  fervent  royalist,  and  had  heard  through 
common  friends  of  my  father's  disappearance,  and 
compassionating  our  misfortune  placed  a  house  near 
her  own  at  the  disposal  of  my  mother,  who  would 
there  find  the  safety  and  peace  that  she  needed,  after 
her  cruel  sorrows.  As  my  mother  hesitated,  Mme. 
de  Combray's  messenger  urged  the  benefit  to  my 
health,  the  exercise  and  the  good  air  indispensable  at 
my  age,  and  finally  she  consented.  Having  obtained 
all  necessary  information,  my  mother,  the  servant  and 
I  took  the  boat  two  days  after,  at  Saint-Germain, 
and  arrived  by  sunset  the  same  evening  at  Roule, 
near  Aubevoye.  A  gardener  was  waiting  with  a  cart 
for  us  and  our  luggage.  A  few  moments  later  we 
entered  the  court  of  the  chateau. 

"  Mme.  de  Combray  received  us  in  a  large  room 
overlooking  the  Seine.  She  had  one  of  her  sons 
with  her,  and  two  intimate  friends,  who  welcomed  my 
mother  with  the  consideration  due  to  the  widow  of 
one  who  had  served  the  good  cause.  Supper  was 
served ;  I  was  drooping  with  sleep,  and  the  only  re- 
membrance  I   have  of  this  meal  is  the  voice  of  my 


X  PREFACE 

mother,  passionate  and  excitable  as  ever.  Next 
morning,  after  breakfast,  the  gardener  appeared  with 
his  cart,  to  take  us  to  the  house  we  were  to  occupy ; 
the  road  was  so  steep  and  rough  that  my  mother  pre- 
ferred to  go  on  foot,  leading  her  horse  by  the  bridle. 
We  were  in  a  thick  wood,  climbing  all  the  time,  and 
surprised  at  having  to  go  so  far  and  so  high  to  reach 
the  habitation  that  had  been  offered  to  us  near  the 
chateau.  We  came  to  a  clearing  in  the  wood,  and 
the  gardener  cried, '  Here  we  are  ! '  and  pointed  to  our 
dwelling.  '  Oh  ! '  cried  my  mother,  '  it  is  a  donjon  !  * 
It  was  an  old  round  tower,  surmounted  by  a  platform 
and  with  no  opening  but  the  door  and  some  loop-holes 
that  served  as  windows. 

"  The  situation  itself  was  not  displeasing.  A  pla- 
teau cleared  in  the  woods,  surrounded  by  large  trees 
with  a  vista  towards  the  Seine,  and  a  line  view  ex- 
tending some  distance.  The  gardener  had  a  little  hut 
near  by,  and  there  was  a  small  kitchen-garden  for  our 
use.  In  fact  one  would  have  been  easily  satisfied  with 
this  solitude,  after  the  misfortunes  of  the  Isle  Saint- 
Louis,  if  the  tower  had  been  less  forbidding.  To 
enter  it  one  had  to  cross  a  little  moat,  over  which  were 
thrown  two  planks,  which  served  as  a  bridge.  By 
means  of  a  cord  and  pulley  this  could  be  drawn  up 
from  the  inside,  against  the  entrance  door,  thus  making 
it  doubly  secure.  '  And  this  is  the  drawbridge  ! '  said 
my  mother,  mockingly. 

*'  The  ground  floor  consisted  of  a  circular  chamber, 
with  a  table,  chairs,  a  sideboard,  etc.  Opposite  the 
door,  in  an  embrasure  of  the  wall,  about  two  yards  in 


PREFACE  xi 

thickness,  a  barred  window  lighted  this  room,  which 
was  to  serve  as  sitting-room,  kitchen  and  dining-room 
at  the  same  time ;  but  lighted  it  so  imperfectly  that 
to  see  plainly  even  in  the  daytime  one  had  to  leave 
the  door  open.  On  one  side  was  the  fireplace,  and 
on  the  other  the  wooden  staircase  that  led  to  the  upper 
floors;  under  the  staircase  was  a  trap-door  firmly 
closed  by  a  large  lock. 

" '  It  is  the  cellar,*  said  the  gardener,  '  but  it  is 
dangerous,  as  it  is  full  of  rubbish.  I  have  a  place 
where  you  can  keep  your  drink.'  '  And  our  food  ?  * 
said  the  servant. 

"  The  gardener  explained  that  he  often  went  down 
to  the  chateau  in  his  cart  and  that  the  cook  would 
have  every  facility  for  doing  her  marketing  at  Aube- 
voye.  As  for  my  mother,  Mme.  de  Combray,  think- 
ing that  the  journey  up  and  down  hill  would  be  too 
much  for  her,  would  send  a  donkey  which  would  do 
for  her  to  ride  when  we  went  to  the  chateau  in  the 
afternoon  or  evening.  On  the  first  floor  were  two 
rooms  separated  by  a  partition ;  one  for  my  mother 
and  me,  the  other  for  the  servant,  both  lighted  only 
by  loop-holes.     It  was  cold  and  sinister. 

"  '  This  is  a  prison  ! '  cried  my  mother. 

"  The  gardener  remarked  that  we  should  only  sleep 
there ;  and  seeing  my  mother  about  to  go  up  to  the 
next  floor,  he  stopped  her,  indicating  the  dilapidated 
condition  of  the  stairs.  'This  floor  is  abandoned,' 
he  said ;  '  the  platform  above  is  in  a  very  bad  state, 
and  the  staircase  impracticable  and  dangerous.  Mme. 
de   Combray  begs  that  you  will   never  go  above  the 


xii  PREFACE 

first  landing,  for  fear  of  an  accident.'  After  which 
he  went  to  get  our  luggage. 

"  My  mother  then  gave  way  to  her  feelings.  It 
was  a  mockery  to  lodge  us  in  this  rat-hole.  She 
talked  of  going  straight  back  to  Paris }  but  our  servant 
was  so  happy  at  having  no  longer  to  fear  the  police ; 
I  had  found  so  much  pleasure  gathering  flowers  in  the 
wood  and  running  after  butterflies ;  my  mother  her- 
self enjoyed  the  great  calm  and  silence  so  much  that 
the  decision  was  put  off  till  the  next  day.  And  the 
next  day  we  renounced  all  idea  of  going. 

"  Our  life  for  the  next  two  months  was  untroubled. 
We  were  at  the  longest  days  of  the  year.  Once  a 
week  we  were  invited  to  supper  at  the  chateau,  and 
we  came  home  through  the  woods  at  night  in  perfect 
security.  Sometimes  in  the  afternoon  my  mother 
went  to  visit  Mme.  de  Combray,  and  always  found 
her  playing  at  cards  or  tric-trac  with  friends  staying 
at  the  chateau  or  passing  through,  but  oftenest  with 
a  stout  man,  her  lawyer.  No  existence  could  be  more 
commonplace  or  peaceful.  Although  they  talked 
politics  freely  (but  with  more  restraint  than  my 
mother),  she  told  me  later  that  she  never  for  one 
moment  suspected  that  she  was  in  a  nest  of  conspira- 
tors. Once  or  twice  only  Mme.  de  Combray,  touched 
by  the  sincerity  and  ardour  of  her  loyalty,  seemed  to 
be  on  the  point  of  confiding  in  her.  She  even  forgot 
herself  so  far  as  to  say  : — '  Oh  !  if  you  were  not  so 
hot-headed,  one  would  tell  you  certain  things  ! ' — but 
as  if  already  regretting  that  she  had  said  so  much, 
she  stopped  abruptly. 


PREFACE  xiii 

"  One  night,  when  my  mother  could  not  sleep,  her 
attention  was  attracted  by  a  dull  noise  down-stairs,  as 
if  some  one  were  shutting  a  trap-door  clumsily.  She 
lay  awake  all  night  uneasily,  listening,  but  in  vain. 
Next  morning  we  found  the  room  down-stairs  in 
its  usual  condition ;  but  my  mother  would  not  admit 
that  she  had  been  dreaming,  and  the  same  day  spoke 
to  Mme.  de  Combray,  who  joked  her  about  it,  and 
sent  her  to  the  gardener.  The  latter  said  he  had 
made  the  noise.  Passing  the  tower  he  had  imagined 
that  the  door  was  not  firmly  closed,  and  had  pushed 
against  it  to  make  sure.  The  incident  did  not  occur 
again ;  but  several  days  later  there  was  a  new,  and 
this  time  more  serious,  alarm. 

"  I  had  noticed  on  top  of  the  tower  a  blackbird's 
nest,  which  could  easily  be  reached  from  the  platform, 
but,  faithful  to  orders,  I  had  never  gone  up  there. 
This  time,  however,  the  temptation  was  too  strong. 
I  watched  until  my  mother  and  the  servant  were  in 
our  little  garden,  and  then  climbed  nimbly  up  to  take 
the  nest.  On  the  landing  of  the  second  floor,  curi- 
ous to  get  a  peep  at  the  uninhabited  rooms,  I  pushed 
open  the  door,  and  saw  distinctly  behind  the  glass 
door  in  the  partition  that  separated  the  two  rooms,  a 
green  curtain  drawn  quickly.  In  a  great  fright  I 
rushed  down-stairs  head  over  heels,  and  ran  into  the 
garden,  calling  my  mother  and  shouting,  'There  is 
some  one  up-stairs  in  the  room  ! '  She  did  not  be- 
lieve it  and  scolded  me.  As  I  insisted  she  followed 
me  up-stairs  with  the  servant.  From  the  landing 
my    mother    cried,    '  Is   any    one   there  ? '     Silence. 


xiv  PREFACE 

She  pushed  open  the  glass  door.  No  one  to  be  seen 
— only  a  folding-bed,  unmade.  She  touched  it;  it 
was  warm !  Some  one  had  been  there,  asleep, — 
dressed,  no  doubt.  Where  was  he  ?  On  the  plat- 
form ?  We  went  up.  No  one  was  there  !  He  had 
no  doubt  escaped  when  I  ran  to  the  garden ! 

"We  went  down  again  quickly  and  our  servant 
called  the  gardener.  He  had  disappeared.  We  sad- 
dled the  donkey,  and  my  mother  went  hurry-scurry 
to  the  chateau.  She  found  the  lawyer  at  the  eternal 
tric-trac  with  Mme.  de  Combray,  who  frowned  at  the 
first  word,  not  even  interrupting  her  game. 

" '  More  dreams  !  The  room  is  unoccupied  !  No 
one  sleeps  there  ! ' 

" '  But  the  curtain  ! ' 

" '  Well,  what  of  the  curtain  ?  Your  child  made 
a  draught  by  opening  the  door,  and  the  curtain 
swung.' 

" '  But  the  bed,  still  warm  ! ' 

"'The  gardener  has  some  cats  that  must  have 
been  lying  there,  and  ran  away  when  the  door  was 
opened,  and  that's  all  about  it ! ' 

"'And  yet ' 

" '  Well,  have  you  found  this  ghost  ?  * 

" '  No.' 

"  *  Well  then  ? '  And  she  shook  her  dice  rather 
roughly  without  paying  any  more  attention  to  my 
mother,  who  after  exchanging  a  curt  good-night  with 
the  Marquise,  returned  to  the  tower,  so  little  con- 
vinced of  the  presence  of  the  cats  that  she  took  two 
screw-rings  from  one  of  our  boxes,  fixed  them  on  to 


PREFACE  XV 

the  trap-door,  closed  them  with  a  padlock,  took  the 
key  and  said,  '  Now  we  will  see  if  any  one  comes  in 
that  way.*  And  for  greater  security  she  decided  to  lift 
the  drawbridge  after  supper.  We  all  three  took  hold 
of  the  rope  that  moved  with  difficulty  on  the  rusty 
pulley.  It  was  hard  ;  we  made  three  attempts.  At 
last  it  moved,  the  bridge  shook,  lifted,  came  right  up. 
It  was  done  !  And  that  evening,  beside  my  bed,  my 
mother  said : 

" '  We  will  not  grow  old  in  her  Bastille  I ' 
"Which  was  true,  for  eight  days  later  we  were 
awakened  in  the  middle  of  the  night  by  a  terrible 
hubbub  on  the  ground  floor.  From  our  landing  we 
heard  several  voices,  swearing  and  raging  under  the 
trap-door  which  they  were  trying  to  raise,  to  which 
the  padlock  offered  but  feeble  resistance,  for  a  strong 
push  broke  it  off  and  the  door  opened  with  a  great 
noise.  My  mother  and  the  servant  rushed  to  the 
bureau,  pushed  and  dragged  it  to  the  door,  whilst  some 
men  came  out  of  the  cellar,  walked  to  the  door, 
grumbling,  opened  it,  saw  the  drawbridge  up,  un- 
fastened the  rope  and  let  it  fall  down  with  a  loud 
bang,  and  then  the  voices  grew  fainter  till  they  disap- 
peared in  the  wood.  But  go  to  sleep  after  all  that ! 
We  stayed  there  waiting  for  the  dawn,  and  though  all 
danger  was  over,  not  daring  to  speak  aloud ! 

"  At  last  the  day  broke.  We  moved  the  bureau, 
and  my  mother,  brave  as  ever,  went  down  first, 
carrying  a  candle.  The  yawning  trap-door  exposed 
the  black  hole  of  a  cellar,  the  entrance  door  was  wide 
open  and  the  bridge  down.     We  called  the  gardener. 


xvi  PREFACE 

who  did  not  answer,  and  whose  hut  was  empty.  My 
mother  did  not  wait  till  afternoon  this  time,  but 
jumped  on  her  donkey  and  went  down  to  the  chateau. 

"  Mme.  de  Combray  was  dressing.  She  expected 
my  mother  and  knew  her  object  in  coming  so  well 
that  without  waiting  for  her  to  tell  her  story,  she  flew 
out  like  most  people,  who,  having  no  good  reason  to 
give,  resort  to  angry  words,  and  cried  as  soon  as  she 
entered  the  room  : 

" '  You  are  mad  ;  mad  enough  to  be  shut  up  !  You 
take  my  house  for  a  resort  of  bandits  and  counter- 
feiters !  I  am  sorry  enough  that  I  ever  brought  you 
here ! ' 

" '  And  I  that  I  ever  came  !  ' 

" '  Very  well,  then — ^go  ! ' 

" '  I  am  going  to-morrow.     I  came  to  tell  you  so.' 

" '  A  safe  return  to  you  ! '  On  which  Mme.  de 
Combray  turned  her  back,  and  my  mother  retraced 
her  steps  to  the  tower  in  a  state  of  exasperation, 
fully  determined  to  take  the  boat  for  Paris  without 
further  delay. 

*'  Early  next  morning  we  made  ready.  The  gar- 
dener was  at  the  door  with  his  cart,  coming  and 
going  for  our  luggage,  while  the  servant  put  the  soup 
on  the  table.  My  mother  took  only  two  or  three 
spoonfuls  and  I  did  the  same,  as  I  hate  soup.  The 
servant  alone  emptied  her  plate  !  We  went  down  to 
Roule  where  the  gardener  had  scarcely  left  us  when 
the  servant  was  seized  with  frightful  vomiting.  My 
mother  and  I  were  also  slightly  nauseated,  but  the 
poor  girl  retained  nothing,  happily  for  her,  for  we  re- 


PREFACE  xvii 

turned  to  Paris  convinced  that  the  gardener,  being 
left  alone  for  a  moment,  had  thrown  some  poison  into 
the  soup." 

"  And  did  nothing  happen  afterwards  ?  " 

"  Nothing." 

"  And  you  heard  nothing  more  from  Tournebut  ? " 

"  Nothing,  until  1808,  when  we  learned  that  the 
mail  had  been  attacked  and  robbed  near  Falaise  by  a 
band  of  armed  men  commanded  by  Mme.  de  Com- 
bray's  daughter,  Mme.  Acquet  de  Ferolles,  disguised 
as  a  hussar !  Then,  that  Mme.  Acquet  had  been 
arrested  as  well  as  her  lover  (Le  Chevalier),  her  hus- 
band, her  mother,  her  lawyer  and  servants  and  those 
of  Mme.  de  Combray  at  Tournebut ;  and  finally  that 
Mme.  de  Combray  had  been  condemned  to  imprison- 
ment and  the  pillory,  Mme.  Acquet,  her  lover,  the 
lawyer  (Lefebre)  and  several  others,  to  death." 

"  And  the  husband  ?  " 

"  Released ;  he  was  a  spy." 

"  Was  your  mother  called  as  a  witness  ?  " 

"  No,  happily,  they  knew  nothing  about  us.  Be- 
sides, what  would  she  have  said  ?  " 

"  Nothing,  except  that  the  people  who  frightened 
you  so  much,  must  surely  have  belonged  to  the  band ; 
that  they  had  forced  the  trap-door,  after  a  nocturnal 
expedition,  on  which  they  had  been  pursued  as  far  as 
a  subterranean  entrance,  which  without  doubt  led  to 
the  cellar." 

After  we  had  chatted  a  while  on  this  subject 
Moisson  wished  me  good-night,  and  I  took  up 
Balzac's  chef  d'ceuvre  and  resumed  my  reading.     But 


xviii  PREFACE  • 

I  only  read  a  few  lines ;  my  imagination  was  wander- 
ing elsewhere.  It  was  a  long  distance  from  Balzac's 
idealism  to  the  realism  of  Moisson,  which  awakened 
in  me  memories  of  the  stories  and  melodramas  of 
Ducray-Duminil,  of  Guilbert  de  Pixerecourt — "  Alexis, 
ou  la  Maisonette  dans  les  Bois,"  "  Victor,  ou  PEnfant 
de  la  Foret," — and  many  others  of  the  same  date  and 
style  so  much  discredited  nowadays.  And  I  thought 
that  what  caused  the  discredit  now,  accounted  for 
their  vogue  formerly ;  that  they  had  a  substratum  of 
truth  under  a  mass  of  absurdity ;  that  these  stories  of 
brigands  in  their  traditional  haunts,  forests,  caverns 
and  subterranean  passages,  charmed  by  their  likelihood 
the  readers  of  those  times  to  whom  an  attack  on  a 
coach  by  highwaymen  with  blackened  faces  was  as 
natural  an  occurrence  as  a  railway  accident  is  to  us, 
and  that  in  what  seems  pure  extravaganza  to  us  they 
only  saw  a  scarcely  exaggerated  picture  of  things  that 
were  continually  happening  under  their  eyes.  In  the 
reports  published  by  M.  Felix  Rocquain  we  can  learn 
the  state  of  France  during  the  Directory  and  the  early 
years  of  the  Commune.  The  roads,  abandoned  since 
1792,  were  worn  into  such  deep  ruts,  that  to  avoid 
them  the  waggoners  made  long  circuits  in  ploughed 
land,  and  the  post-chaises  would  slip  and  sink  into  the 
muddy  bogs  from  which  it  was  impossible  to  drag 
them  except  with  oxen.  At  every  step  through  the 
country  one  came  to  a  deserted  hamlet,  a  roofless 
house,  a  burned  farm,  a  chateau  in  ruins.  Under  the 
indifferent  eyes  of  a  police  that  cared  only  for  politics, 
and  of  gendarmes  recruited  in  such  a  fashion  that  a 


PREFACE  xix 

criminal  often  recognised  an  old  comrade  in  the  one 
who  arrested  him,  bands  of  vagabonds  and  scamps  of 
all  kinds  had  been  formed;  deserters,  refractories, 
fugitives  from  the  pretended  revolutionary  army,  and 
terrorists  without  employment,  "the  scum,"  said 
Fran9ois  de  Nantes,  "  of  the  Revolution  and  the  war ; 
'  lanterneurs '  of  '91,  '  guillotineurs  '  of  '93,  '  sabre- 
urs '  of  the  year  III,  '  assommeurs '  of  the  year  IV, 
'  fusilleurs '  of  the  year  V."  All  this  canaille  lived 
only  by  rapine  and  murder,  camped  in  the  forests, 
ruins  and  deserted  quarries  like  that  at  Gueudreville, 
an  underground  passage  one  hundred  feet  long  by 
thirty  broad,  the  headquarters  of  the  band  of  Orgeres, 
a  thoroughly  organised  company  of  bandits — chiefs, 
subchiefs,  storekeepers,  spies,  couriers,  barbers,  sur- 
geons, dressmakers,  cooks,  preceptors  for  the  "gosses," 
and  cure ! 

And  this  brigandage  was  rampant  everywhere. 
There  was  so  little  safety  in  the  Midi  from  Marseilles 
to  Toulon  and  Toulouse  that  one  could  not  travel 
without  an  escort.  In  the  Var,  the  Bouches-du- 
Rh3ne,  Vaucluse,  from  Digne  and  Draguignan,  to 
Avignon  and  Aix,  one  had  to  pay  ransom.  A  placard 
placed  along  the  roads  informed  the  traveller  that 
unless  he  paid  a  hundred  francs  in  advance,  he  risked 
being  killed.  The  receipt  given  to  the  driver  served 
as  a  passport.  Theft  by  violence  was  so  much  the 
custom  that  certain  villages  in  the  Lower  Alps  were 
openly  known  as  the  abode  of  those  who  had  no  other 
occupation.  On  the  banks  of  the  Rhone  travellers 
were    charitably  warned    not    to    put    up    at    certain 


XX  PREFACE 

solitary  inns  for  fear  of  not  reappearing  therefrom. 
On  the  Italian  frontier  they  were  the  "  barbets  " ;  in 
the  North  the  "  garroteurs " ;  in  the  Ardeche  the 
"  bande  noire  " ;  in  the  Centre  the  "  Chiffoniers  "  ; 
in  Artois,  Picardie,  the  Somme,  Seine-Inferieure,  the 
Chartrain  country,  the  Orleanais,  Loire-Inferieure, 
Orne,  Sarthe,  Mayenne,  Ille-et-Vilaine,  etc.,  and  Ile- 
de-France  to  the  very  gates  of  Paris,  but  above  all  in 
Calvados,  Finistere  and  La  Manche  where  royalism 
served  as  their  flag,  the  "  chauffeurs  "  and  the  bands 
of  "  Grands  Gars  "  and  "  Coupe  et  Tranche,"  which 
under  pretence  of  being  Chouans  attacked  farms  or 
isolated  dwellings,  and  inspired  such  terror  that  if  one 
of  them  were  arrested  neither  witness  nor  jury  could 
be  found  to  condemn  him.  Politics  evidently  had 
nothing  to  do  with  these  exploits ;  it  was  a  private 
war.  And  the  Chouans  professed  to  wage  it  only 
against  the  government.  So  long  as  they  limited 
themselves  to  fighting  the  gendarmes  or  national 
guards  in  bands  of  five  or  six  hundred,  to  invading 
defenceless  places  in  order  to  cut  down  the  trees  of 
liberty,  burn  the  municipal  papers,  and  pillage  the 
coffers  of  the  receivers  and  school-teachers — (the 
State  funds  having  the  right  to  return  to  their  legiti- 
mate owner,  the  King),  they  could  be  distinguished 
from  professional  malefactors.  But  when  they  stopped 
coaches,  extorted  ransom  from  travellers  and  shot  con- 
stitutional priests  and  purchasers  of  the  national 
property,  the  distinction  became  too  subtle.  There 
was  no  longer  any  room  for  it  in  the  year  VIII  and 
IX  when,  vigorous   measures   having  almost  cleared 


PREFACE  xxi 

the  country  of  the  bands  of  "  chauffeurs  '*  and  other 
bandits  who  infested  it,  the  greater  number  of  those 
who  had  escaped  being  shot  or  guillotined  joined  what 
remained  of  the  royalist  army,  last  refuge  of  brig- 
andage. 

In  such  a  time  Moisson's  adventure  was  not  at  all 
extraordinary.  We  can  only  accuse  it  of  being  too 
simple.  It  was  the  mildest  scene  of  a  huge  melo- 
drama in  which  he  and  his  mother  had  played  the  part 
of  supers.  But  slight  as  was  the  episode,  it  had  all 
the  attraction  of  the  unknown  for  me.  Of  Tourne- 
but  and  its  owners  I  knew  nothing.  Who,  in  reality, 
was  this  Mme.  de  Combray,  sanctified  by  Balzac  ?  A 
fanatic,  or  an  intriguer? — And  her  daughter  Mme. 
Acquet  ?  A  heroine  or  a  lunatic  ? — and  the  lover  ? 
A  hero  or  an  adventurer? — And  the  husband,  the 
lawyer  and  the  friends  of  the  house  ?  Mme.  Acquet 
more  than  all  piqued  my  curiosity.  The  daughter  of 
a  good  house  disguised  as  a  hussar  to  stop  the  mail 
like  Choppart !  This  was  not  at  all  commonplace  ! 
Was  she  young  and  pretty  ?  Moisson  knew  nothing 
about  it;  he  had  never  seen  her  or  her  lover  or 
husband,  Mme.  de  Combray  having  quarrelled  with 
all  of  them. 

I  was  most  anxious  to  learn  more,  but  to  do 
that  it  would  be  necessary  to  consult  the  report 
of  the  trial  in  the  record  office  at  Rouen.  I  never 
had  time.  I  mentioned  it  to  M.  Gustave  Bord,  to 
Frederic  Masson  and  M.  de  la  Sicotiere,  and  thought 
no  more  about  it  even  after  the  interesting  article 
published  in  the  Temps ^  by  M.  Ernest  Daudet,  until 


xxii  .     PREFACE 

walking  one  day  with  Lenotre  in  the  little  that  is 
left  of  old  Paris  of  the  Cite,  the  house  in  the  Rue 
Chanoinesse,  where  Balzac  lodged  Mme.  de  la 
Chanterie,  reminded  me  of  Moisson,  whose  ad- 
venture I  narrated  to  Lenotre,  at  that  time  finishing 
his  "  Conspiration  de  la  Rouerie."  That  was  suffi- 
cient to  give  him  the  idea  of  studying  the  records  of 
the  affair  of  1807,  which  no  one  had  consulted  before 
him.  A  short  time  after  he  told  me  that  the  tower  of 
Tournebut  was  still  in  existence,  and  that  he  was 
anxious  for  us  to  visit  it,  the  son-in-law  of  the  owner 
of  the  Chateau  of  Aubevoye,  M.  Constantin,  having 
kindly  offered  to  conduct  us. 

On  a  fine  autumn  morning  the  train  left  us  at  the 
station  that  served  the  little  village  of  Aubevoye, 
whose  name  has  twice  been  heard  in  the  Courts  of 
Justice,  once  in  the  trial  of  Mme.  de  Combray  and 
once  in  that  of  Mme.  de  Jeufosse.  Those  who  have 
no  taste  for  these  sorts  of  excursions  cannot  under- 
stand their  charm.  Whether  it  be  a  little  historical 
question  to  be  solved,  an  unknown  or  badly  authen- 
ticated fact  to  be  elucidated,  this  document  hunt  with 
its  deceptions  and  surprises  is  the  most  amusing  kind 
of  chase,  especially  in  company  with  a  delver  like 
Lenotre,  endowed  with  an  admirable  y^^/r  that  always 
puts  him  on  the  right  track.  There  was,  moreover, 
a  particular  attraction  in  this  old  forgotten  tower,  in 
which  we  alone  were  interested,  and  in  examining 
into  Moisson's  story  ! 

Of  the  chateau  that  had  been  built  by  the  Marechal 
de  Marillac,  and  considerably  enlarged  by  Mme.  de 


PREFACE  xxiii 

Combray,  nothing,  unhappily,  remains  but  the  out- 
buildings, a  terrace  overlooking  the  Seine,  the  court 
of  honour  turned  into  a  lawn,  an  avenue  of  old  limes 
and  the  ancient  fence.  A  new  building  replaced  the 
old  one  fifty  years  ago.  The  little  chateau,  "  Gros- 
Mesnil,"  near  the  large  one  has  recently  been  restored. 

But  the  general  effect  is  the  same  as  in  1804. 
Seeing  the  great  woods  that  hug  the  outer  wall  so 
closely,  one  realises  how  well  they  lent  themselves  to 
the  mysterious  comings  and  goings,  to  the  secret 
councils,  to  the  role  destined  for  it  by  Mme.  de 
Combray,  preparing  the  finest  room  for  the  arrival  of 
the  King  or  the  Comte  d'Artois,  and  in  both  the  great 
and  little  chateau,  arranging  hiding-places,  one  of 
which  alone  could  accommodate  forty  armed  men. 

The  tower  is  still  there,  far  from  the  chateau,  at 
the  summit  of  a  wooded  hill  in  the  centre  of  a  clear- 
ing, which  commands  the  river  valley.  It  is  a  squat, 
massive  construction,  of  forbidding  aspect,  such  as 
Moisson  described,  with  thick  walls,  and  windows  so 
narrow  that  they  look  more  like  loopholes.  It  seems 
as  if  it  might  originally  have  been  one  of  the  guard- 
houses or  watch-towers  erected  on  the  heights  from 
Nantes  to  Paris,  like  the  tower  of  Montjoye  whose 
ditch  is  recognisable  in  the  Forest  of  Marly,  or  those 
of  Montaigu  and  Hennemont,  whose  ruins  were  still 
visible  in  the  last  century.  Some  of  these  towers 
were  converted  into  mills  or  pigeon-houses.  Ours, 
whose  upper  story  and  pointed  roof  had  been  de- 
molished and  replaced  by  a  platform  at  an  uncertain 
date,  was  flanked  by  a  wooden  mill,  burnt  before  the 


xxiv  PREFACE 

Revolution,  for  it  is  not  to  be  found  in  Cassini*s 
chart  which  shows  all  in  the  region.  The  tower 
and  its  approaches  are  still  known  as  the  "  burnt 
mill/' 

There  remains  no  trace  of  the  excavation  which 
was  in  front  of  the  entrance  in  1804,  and  which  must 
have  been  the  last  vestige  of  an  old  moat.  The 
threshold  crossed,  we  are  in  the  circular  chamber ;  at 
the  end  facing  the  door  is  the  window,  the  bars  of 
which  have  been  taken  down  ;  on  the  left  a  modern 
chimneypiece  replaces  the  old  one,  and  on  the  right 
is  the  staircase,  in  good  condition.  The  trap-door 
has  disappeared  from  under  it,  the  cellar  being  aban- 
doned as  useless.  On  the  first  floor  as  on  the  second, 
where  the  partitions  have  been  removed,  there  arc 
still  traces  of  them,  with  fragments  of  wall-paper. 
The  very  little  daylight  that  filters  through  the  win- 
dows justifies  Mme.  Moisson's  exclamation,  "  It  is  a 
prison !  "  The  platform,  from  which  the  view  is 
very  fine,  has  been  renewed,  like  the  staircase.  But 
from  top  to  bottom  all  corresponds  with  Moisson's 
description. 

All  that  remained  now  was  to  find  out  how  one 
could  get  into  the  cellar  from  outside.  We  had  two 
excellent  guides ;  our  kind  host,  M.  Constantin,  and 
M.  TAbbe  Drouin,  the  cure  of  Aubevoye,  who  knew 
all  the  local  traditions.  They  mentioned  the  "  Grotto 
of  the  Hermit !  "  O  Ducray-Duminil !  — Thou 
again  ! 

The  grotto  is  an  old  quarry  in  the  side  of  the  hill 
towards   the   Seine,  below  the  tower  and  having  no 


PREFACE  XXV 

apparent  communication  with  it,  but  so  situated  that 
an  underground  passage  of  a  few  yards  would  unite 
them.  The  grotto  being  now  almost  filled  up,  the 
entrance  to  this  passage  has  disappeared.  Looking 
at  it,  so  innocent  in  appearance  now  under  the  brush 
and  brambles,  I  seemed  to  see  some  Chouan  by  star- 
light, eye  and  ear  alert,  throw  himself  into  it  like  a 
rabbit  into  its  hole,  and  creep  through  to  the  tower, 
to  sleep  fully  dressed  on  the  pallet  on  the  second 
floor.  Evidently  this  tower,  planned  as  were  all 
Mme.  de  Combray's  abodes,  was  one  of  the  many 
refuges  arranged  by  the  Chouans  from  the  coast  of 
Normandy  to  Paris  and  known  only  to  themselves. 

But  why  was  Mme.  Moisson  accommodated  there 
without  being  taken  into  her  hostess's  confidence  ? 
If  Mme.  de  Combray  wished  to  avert  suspicion  by 
having  two  women  and  a  child  there,  she  might  have 
told  them  so ;  and  if  she  thought  Mme.  Moisson  too 
excitable  to  hear  such  a  confession,  she  should  not 
have  exposed  her  to  nocturnal  mysteries  that  could 
only  tend  to  increase  her  excitement !  When  Phelip- 
peaux  was  questioned,  during  the  trial  of  Georges 
Cadoudal,  about  Moisson's  father,  who  had  disap- 
peared, he  replied  that  he  lived  in  the  street  and  island 
of  Saint-Louis  near  the  new  bridge ;  that  he  was  an 
engraver  and  manager  of  a  button  factory  ;  that  Mme. 
Moisson  had  a  servant  named  R.  Petit-Jean,  married 
to  a  municipal  guard.  Was  it  through  fear  of  this 
woman's  writing  indiscreetly  to  her  husband  that 
Mme.  de  Combray  remained  silent  ?  But  in  any 
case,  why  the  tower  ? 


xxvi  PREFACE 

However  this  may  be,  the  exactness  of  Moisson*s 
reminiscences  was  proved.  But  the  trap-door  had  not 
been  forced,  as  he  believed,  by  Chouans  fleeing  after 
some  nocturnal  expedition.  This  point  was  already 
decided  by  the  first  documents  that  Lenotre  had  col- 
lected for  this  present  work.  There  was  no  expedi- 
tion of  the  sort  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Tournebut 
during  the  summer  of  1804.  They  would  not  have 
risked  attracting  attention  to  the  chateau  where  was 
hidden  the  only  man  whom  the  Chouans  of  Normandy 
judged  capable  of  succeeding  Georges,  and  whom 
they  called  "Le  Grand  Alexandre" — the  Vicomte 
Robert  d'Ache.  Hunted  through  Paris  like  all  the 
royalists  denounced  by  Querelle,  he  had  managed  to 
escape  the  searchers,  to  go  out  in  one  of  his  habitual 
disguises  when  the  gates  were  reopened,  to  get  to 
Normandy  by  the  left  bank  of  the  Seine  and  take 
refuge  with  his  old  friend  at  Tournebut,  where  he 
lived  for  fourteen  months  under  the  name  of  Des- 
lorieres,  his  presence  there  never  being  suspected  by 
the  police. 

He  was  certainly,  as  well  as  Bonnoeil,  Mme.  de 
Combray's  eldest  son,  one  of  the  three  guests  with 
whom  Moisson  took  supper  on  the  evening  of  his 
arrival.  The  one  who  was  always  playing  cards  or 
tric-trac  with  the  Marquise,  and  whom  she  called  her 
lawyer,  might  well  have  been  d'Ache  himself.  As  to 
the  stealthy  visitors  at  the  tower,  given  the  presence 
of  d'Ache  at  Tournebut,  it  is  highly  probable  that 
they  were  only  passing  by  there  to  confer  with  him, 
taking  his  orders  secretly  in  the  woods  without  even 


PREFACE  xxvii 

appearing  at  the  chateau,  and  then  disappearing  as 
mysteriously  as  they  had  come. 

For  d'Ache  in  his  retreat  still  plotted  and  made  an 
effort  to  resume,  with  the  English  minister,  the  in- 
trigue that  had  just  failed  so  miserably,  Moreau  hav- 
ing withdrawn  at  the  last  minute.  The  royalist 
party  was  less  intimidated  than  exasperated  at  the 
deaths  of  the  Duke  d*Enghien,  Georges  and  Pichegru, 
and  did  not  consider  itself  beaten  even  by  the  procla- 
mation of  the  Empire,  which  had  not  excited  in  the 
provinces — above  all  in  the  country — the  enthusiasm 
announced  in  the  official  reports. 

In  reality  it  had  been  accepted  by  the  majority  of 
the  population  as  a  government  of  expediency,  which 
would  provisionally  secure  threatened  interests,  but 
whose  duration  was  anything  but  certain.  It  was  too 
evident  that  the  Empire  was  Napoleon,  as  the  Con- 
sulate had  been  Bonaparte — that  everything  rested  on 
the  head  of  one  man.  If  an  infernal  machine  re- 
moved him,  royalty  would  have  a  good  opportunity. 
His  life  was  not  the  only  stake ;  his  luck  itself  was 
very  hazardous.  Founded  on  victory,  the  Empire 
was  condemned  to  be  always  victorious.  War  could 
undo  what  war  had  done.  And  this  uneasiness  is 
manifest  in  contemporary  memoirs  and  correspond- 
ence. More  of  the  courtiers  of  the  new  regime  than 
one  imagines  were  as  sceptical  as  Mme.  Mere,  econo- 
mising her  revenues  and  saying  to  her  mocking 
daughters,  "  You  will  perhaps  be  very  glad  of  them, 
some  day  !  "  In  view  of  a  possible  catastrophe  many 
of  these   kept  open  a  door  for  retreat  towards  the 


xxviii  PREFACE 

Bourbons,  and  vaguely  encouraged  hopes  of  assistance 
that  could  only  be  depended  on  in  case  of  their  suc- 
cess, but  which  the  royalists  believed  in  as  positive 
and  immediate.  As  to  the  disaster  which  might 
bring  it  about,  they  hoped  for  its  early  coming,  and 
promised  it  to  the  impatient  Chouans — the  disem- 
barkation of  an  Anglo-Russian  army — the  rising  of 
the  West — the  entrance  of  Louis  XVIII  into  his 
good  town  of  Paris — and  the  return  of  the  Corsican 
to  his  island  !  Predictions  that  were  not  so  wild  after 
all.  Ten  years  later  it  was  an  accomplished  fact  in 
almost  all  its  details.  And  what  are  ten  years  in  poli- 
tics ?  Frotte,  Georges,  Pichegru,  d'Ache,  would 
only  have  had  to  fold  their  arms.  They  would  have 
seen  the  Empire  crumble  by  its  own  weight. 

We  made  these  reflections  on  returning  to  the 
chateau  while  looking  at  the  terrace  in  the  setting 
sun,  at  the  peaceful  winding  of  the  Seine  and  the 
lovely  autumn  landscape  that  Mme.  de  Combray  and 
d'Ache  had  so  often  looked  at,  at  the  same  place  and 
hour,  little  foreseeing  the  sad  fate  the  future  had  in 
store  for  them. 

The  misfortunes  of  the  unhappy  woman — the  de- 
plorable affair  of  Quesnay  where  the  coach  with  state 
funds  was  attacked  by  Mme.  Acquet's  men,  for  the 
profit  of  the  royalist  exchequer  and  of  Le  Chevalier ; 
the  assassination  of  d'Ache,  sold  to  the  imperial  po- 
lice by  La  Vaubadon,  his  mistress,  and  the  cowardly 
Doulcet  de  Pontecoulant,  who  does  not  boast  of  it  in 
his  "  Memoires," — have  been  the  themes  of  several 
tales,  romances  and  novels,  wherein   fancy  plays  too 


PREFACE  xxix 

great  a  part,  and  whose  misinformed  authors,  Hippo- 
lyte  Bonnelier,  Comtesse  de  Mirabeau,  Chennevieres, 
etc.,  have  taken  great  advantage  of  the  liberty  used  in 
works  of  imagination.  There  is  only  one  reproach 
to  be  made — that  they  did  not  have  the  genius  of 
Balzac.  But  we  may  criticise  more  severely  the  so- 
called  historical  writings  about  Mme.  de  Combray, 
her  family  and  residences,  and  the  Chateau  of  Tourne- 
but  which  M.  Romberg  shows  us  flanked  by  four 
feudal  towers,  and  which  MM.  Le  Prevost  and 
Bourdon  say  was  demolished  in  1807. 

Mme.  d'Abrantes,  with  her  usual  veracity,  describes 
the  luxurious  furniture  and  huge  lamps  in  the  "  laby- 
rinths of  Tournebut,  of  which  one  must,  as  it  were, 
have  a  plan,  so  as  not  to  lose  one's  way."  She  shows 
us  Le  Chevalier,  crucifix  in  hand,  haranguing  the  as- 
sailants in  the  wood  of  Quesnay  (although  he  was  in 
Paris  that  day  to  prove  an  alibi),  and  gravely  adds, 
"  I  know  some  one  who  was  in  the  coach  and  who 
alone  survived,  the  seven  other  travellers  having  been 
massacred  and  their  bodies  left  on  the  road."  Now 
there  was  neither  coach  nor  travellers,  and  no  one 
was  killed  ! 

M.  de  la  Sicotiere's  mistakes  are  still  stranger.  At 
the  time  that  he  was  preparing  his  great  work 
on  "  Frotte  and  the  Norman  Insurrections,"  he 
learned  from  M.  Gustave  Bord  that  I  had  some 
special  facts  concerning  Mme.  de  Combray,  and 
wrote  to  ask  me  about  them.  I  sent  him  a  resume 
of  Moisson's  story,  and  asked  him  to  verify  its  cor- 
rectness.    And  on  that  he  went  finely  astray. 


XXX  PREFACE 

Mme.  de  Combray  had  two  residences  besides  her 
house  at  Rouen ;  one  at  Aubevoye,  where  she  had 
lived  for  a  long  while,  the  other  thirty  leagues  away, 
at  Donnay,  in  the  department  of  Orne,  where  she  no 
longer  went,  as  her  son-in-law  had  settled  himself 
there.  Two  towers  have  the  same  name  of  Tourne- 
but  j  the  one  at  Aubevoye  is  ours ;  the  other,  some 
distance  from  Donnay,  did  not  belong  to  Mme.  de 
Combray. 

Convinced  solely  by  the  assertions  of  MM.  Le 
Prevost  and  Bourdon  that  in  1804  the  Chateau  of 
Aubevoye  and  its  tower  no  longer  existed,  and  that 
Mme.  de  Combray  occupied  Donnay  at  that  date,  M. 
de  la  Sicotiere  naturally  mistool^  one  Tournebut  for 
the  other,  did  not  understand  a  single  word  of  Mois- 
son's  story,  which  he  treated  as  a  chimera,  and  in 
his  book  acknowledges  my  communications  in  this 
disdainful  note : 

"  Confiisioii  has  arisen  in  many  minds  between  the  two 
Tournebuts,  so  different,  however,  and  at  such  a  distance 
from  each  other,  and  has  given  birth  to  many  strange  and 
romantic  legends ;  inaccessible  retreats  arranged  for  outlaws 
and  bandits  in  the  old  tower,  nocturnal  apparitions,  innocent 
victims  paying  with  their  lives  the  misfortune  of  having  sur- 
prised the  secrets  of  these  terrible  guests.     .     .      ." 

It  is  pleasant  to  see  M.  de  la  Sicotiere  point  out  the 
confusion  he  alone  experienced.  But  there  is  better 
to  come  !  Here  is  a  writer  who  gives  us  in  two  large 
volumes  the  history  of  Norman  Chouannerie.  There 
is  little  else  spoken  of  in  his  book  than  disguises,  false 
names,  false  papers,  ambushes,  kidnappings,  attacks  on 


PREFACE  xxxi 

coaches,  subterranean  passages,  prisons,  escapes,  child 
spies  and  female  captains  !  He  states  himself  that  the 
affair  of  the  Forest  of  Quesnay  was  "  tragic,  strange  and 
mysterious  !  "  And  at  the  same  time  he  condemns  as 
"  strange  "  and  "  romantic  "  the  simplest  of  all  these  ad- 
ventures— that  of  Moisson  !  He  scoffs  at  his  hiding- 
places  in  the  roofs  of  the  old  chateau,  and  it  is  precisely 
in  the  roofs  of  the  old  chateau  that  the  police  found  the 
famous  refuge  which  could  hold  forty  men  with  ease. 
He  calls  the  retreats  arranged  for  the  outlaws  and 
bandits  "  legendary,"  at  the  same  time  that  he  gives 
two  pages  to  the  enumeration  of  the  holes,  vaults, 
wells,  pits,  grottoes  and  caverns  in  which  these  same 
bandits  and  outlaws  found  safety  !  So  that  M.  de  la 
Sicotiere  seems  to  be  laughing  at  himself! 

I  should  reproach  myself  if  I  did  not  mention,  as  a 
curiosity,  the  biography  of  M.  and  Mme.  de  Com- 
bray,  united  in  one  person  in  the  "Dictionaire  His- 
torique  "  (!!!)  of  Larousse.  It  is  unique  of  its  kind. 
Names,  places  and  facts  are  all  wrong.  And  the 
crowning  absurdity  is  that,  borne  out  by  these  fancies, 
fragments  are  given  of  the  supposed  Memoires  that 
Felicie  ( ! )  de  Combray  wrote  after  the  Restoration — 
forgetting  that  she  was  guillotined  under  the  Empire ! 

With  M.  Ernest  Daudet  we  return  to  history.  No 
one  had  seriously  studied  the  crime  of  Quesnay  be- 
fore him.  Some  years  ago  he  gave  the  correct  story 
of  it  in  Le  Temps  and  we  could  not  complain  of 
its  being  only  what  he  meant  it  to  be — a  faithful  and 
rapid  resume.  Besides,  M.  Daudet  had  only  at  his 
disposal  the  portfolios  8,170,  8,171,  and  8,172  of  the 


xxxii  PREFACE 

Series  F  7  of  the  National  Archives,  and  the  reports 
sent  to  Real  by  Savoye-Rollin  and  Licquet,  this  cun- 
ning detective  beside  vi^hom  Balzac's  Corentin  seems 
a  mere  schoolboy.  Consequently  the  family  drama 
escapes  M.  Daudet,  vv^ho,  for  that  matter,  did  not 
have  to  concern  himself  w^ith  it.  It  would  not  have 
been  possible  to  do  better  than  he  did  vi^ith  the  docu- 
ments within  his  reach. 

Lenotre  has  pushed  his  researches  further.  He  has 
not  limited  himself  to  studying,  bit  by  bit,  the  vo- 
luminous report  of  the  trial  of  1808,  which  fills  a 
whole  cupboard;  to  comparing  and  opposing  the 
testimony  of  the  witnesses  one  against  the  other,  ex- 
amining the  reports  and  enquiries,  disentangling  the 
real  names  from  the  false,  truth  from  error — in  a 
word,  investigating  the  whole  affair,  a  formidable  task 
of  which  he  only  gives  us  the  substance  here.  Aided 
by  his  wonderful  instinct  and  the  persistency  of  the 
investigator,  he  has  managed  to  obtain  access  to  family 
papers,  some  of  which  were  buried  in  old  trunks  rele- 
gated to  the  attics,  and  in  these  papers  has  found  pre- 
cious documents  which  clear  up  the  depths  of  this 
affair  of  Quesnay  where  the  mad  passion  of  one  poor 
woman  plays  the  greatest  part. 

And  let  no  one  imagine  that  he  is  going  to  read  a 
romance  in  these  pages.  It  is  an  historical  study  in 
the  severest  meaning  of  the  word.  Lenotre  mentions 
no  fact  that  he  cannot  prove.  He  risks  no  hypothe- 
sis without  giving  it  as  such,  and  admits  no  fancy  in 
the  slightest  detail.  If  he  describes  one  of  Mme. 
Acquet's  toilettes,  it  is  because  it  is  given  in  some  in- 


PREFACE  xxxiii 

terrogation.  I  have  seen  him  so  scrupulous  on  this 
point,  as  to  suppress  all  picturesqueness  that  could  be 
put  down  to  his  imagination.  In  no  cause  celehre  has 
justice  shown  more  exactitude  in  exposing  the  facts. 
In  short,  here  will  be  found  all  the  qualities  that  en- 
sured the  success  of  his  "  Conspiration  de  la  Rouerie," 
the  chivalrous  beginning  of  the  Chouannerie  that  he 
now  shows  us  in  its  decline,  reduced  to  highway 
robbery  ! 

As  for  me,  if  I  have  lingered  too  long  by  this  old 
tower,  it  is  because  it  suggested  this  book;  and  we 
owe  some  gratitude  to  these  mute  witnesses  of  a  past 
which  they  keep  in  our  remembrance. 

ViCTORIEN   SaRDOU. 


The  House  of  the  Combrays 


CHAPTER  I 

THE    TREACHERY    OF    JEAN-PIERRE    QUERELLE 

Late  at  night  on  January  the  25th,  1804,  the  First 
Consul,  who,  as  it  often  happened,  had  arisen  in 
order  to  work  till  daylight,  was  looking  over  the 
latest  police  reports  that  had  been  placed  on  his  desk. 

His  death  was  talked  of  everywhere.  It  had  al- 
ready been  announced  positively  in  London,  Germany 
and  Holland.  "  To  assassinate  Bonaparte ''  was  a 
sort  of  game,  in  which  the  English  were  specially 
active.  From  their  shores,  well-equipped  and  plenti- 
fully supplied  with  money,  sailed  many  who  were  de- 
sirous of  gaining  the  great  stake, — obdurate  Chouans 
and  fanatical  royalists  who  regarded  as  an  act  of  piety 
the  crime  that  would  rid  France  of  the  usurper. 
What  gave  most  cause  for  alarm  in  these  reports, 
usually  unworthy  of  much  attention,  was  the  fact  that 
all  of  them  were  agreed  on  one  point — Georges 
Cadoudal  had  disappeared.  Since  this  man,  formidable 
by  reason  of  his  courage  and  tenacity  of  purpose,  had 


::/h>;:Tii?:  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

declared  war  without  mercy  on  the  First  Consul,  the 
police  had  never  lost  sight  of  him.  It  was  known 
that  he  was  staying  in  England,  and  he  was  under 
surveillance  there;  but  if  it  was  true  that  he  had 
escaped  this  espionage,  the  danger  was  imminent,  and 
the  predicted  "  earthquake  "  at  hand. 

Bonaparte,  more  irritated  than  uneasy  at  these  tales, 
wished  to  remove  all  doubt  about  the  matter.  He 
mistrusted  Fouche,  whose  devotion  he  had  reason  to 
suspect,  and  who  besides  had  not  at  this  time — of- 
ficially at  least — the  superintendence  of  the  police; 
and  he  had  attached  to  himself  a  dangerous  spy,  the 
Belgian  Real.  It  was  on  this  man  that  Bonaparte,  on 
certain  occasions,  preferred  to  rely.  Real  was  a 
typical  detective.  The  friend  of  Danton,  he  had  in 
former  days,  organised  the  great  popular  manifesta- 
tions that  were  to  intimidate  the  Convention.  He 
had  penetrated  the  terrible  depths  of  the  Revolution- 
ary Tribunal,  and  the  Committee  of  Public  Safety. 
He  knew  and  understood  how  to  make  use  of  what 
remained  of  the  old  committees  of  sections,  of  "  sep- 
tembriseurs  "  without  occupation,  lacqueys,  perfumers, 
dentists,  dancing  masters  without  pupils,  all  the  refuse 
of  the  revolution,  the  women  of  the  Palais-Royal : 
such  was  the  army  he  commanded,  having  as  his  lieu- 
tenants Desmarets,  an  unfrocked  priest,  and  Veyrat, 
formerly  a  Genevese  convict,  who  had  been  branded 
and  whipped  by  the  public  executioner.  Real  and 
these  two  subalterns  were  the  principal  actors  in  the 
drama  that  we  are  about  to  relate. 

On  this  night  Bonaparte  sent  in  haste  for  Real. 


JEAN-PIERRE  QUERELLE  3 

In  his  usual  manner,  by  brief  questions  he  soon 
learned  the  number  of  royalists  confined  in  the  tower 
of  the  Temple  or  at  Bicetre,  their  names,  and  on  what 
suspicions  they  had  been  arrested.  Quickly  satisfied 
on  all  these  points  he  ordered  that  before  daylight  four 
of  the  most  deeply  implicated  of  the  prisoners  should 
be  taken  before  a  military  commission  j  if  they  re- 
vealed nothing  they  were  to  be  shot  in  twenty-four 
hours.  Aroused  at  five  o'clock  in  the  morning,  Des- 
marets  was  told  to  prepare  the  list,  and  the  first  two 
names  indicated  were  those  of  Picot  and  Lebourgeois. 
Picot  was  one  of  Frotte's  old  officers,  and  during  the 
wars  of  the  Chouannerie  had  been  commander-in- 
chief  of  the  Auge  division.  He  had  earned  the  sur- 
name of  "  Egorge-Bleus  "  and  was  a  Chevalier  of  St. 
Louis.  Lebourgeois,  keeper  of  a  coffee-house  at 
Rouen,  had  been  accused  about  the  year  1800  of  ta- 
king part  in  an  attack  on  a  stage-coach,  was  acquitted, 
and  like  his  friend  Picot,  had  emigrated  to  England. 
Both  of  these  men  had  been  denounced  by  a  profes- 
sional instigator  as  having  "been  heard  to  say"  that 
they  had  come  to  attempt  the  life  of  the  First  Consul. 
They  had  been  arrested  at  Pont-Audemer  as  soon  as 
they  returned  to  France,  and  had  now  been  imprisoned 
in  the  Temple  for  nearly  a  year. 

To  these  two  victims  Desmarets  added  another 
Chouan,  Pioge,  nicknamed  "  Without  Pity "  or 
"  Strike-to-Death,"  and  Desol  de  Grisolles,  an  old 
companion  of  Georges  and  "  a  very  dangerous  royal- 
ist." And  then,  to  show  his  zeal,  he  added  a  fifth 
name  to  the  list,  that  of   Querelle,  ex-surgeon   of 


4      THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

marine,  arrested  four  months  previously,  under  slight 
suspicion,  but  described  in  the  report  as  a  poor- 
spirited  creature  of  whom  "something  might  be 
expected." 

"  This  one,"  said  Bonaparte  on  reading  the  name 
of  Querelle,  and  the  accompanying  note,  "  is  more 
of  an  intriguer  than  a  fanatic;  he  will  speak." 

The  same  day  the  five,  accused  of  enticing  away 
soldiers  and  corresponding  with  the  enemies  of  the 
Republic,  were  led  before  a  military  commission  over 
which  General  Duplessis  presided ;  Desol  and  Pioge 
were  acquitted,  returned  to  the  hands  of  the  govern- 
ment and  immediately  reincarcerated.  Picot,  Le- 
bourgeois  and  Querelle,  condemned  to  death,  were 
transferred  to  the  Abbaye  there  to  await  their  execu- 
tion on  the  following  day. 

"  There  must  be  no  delay,  you  understand,"  said 
Bonaparte,  "  I  will  not  have  it." 

But  nevertheless  it  was  necessary  to  give  a  little 
time  for  the  courage  of  the  prisoners  to  fail,  and  for 
the  police  to  aid  in  bringing  this  about. 

There  was  nothing  to  be  expected  of  Picot  or 
Lebourgeois;  they  knew  nothing  of  the  conspiracy 
and  were  resigned  to  their  fate;  but  their  deaths 
could  be  used  to  intimidate  Querelle  who  was  less 
firm,  and  the  authorities  did  not  fail  to  make  the  most 
of  the  opportunity.  He  was  allowed  to  be  present 
during  all  the  preparations ;  he  witnessed  the  arrival 
of  the  soldiers  who  were  to  shoot  his  companions  ;  he 
saw  them  depart  and  was  immediately  told  that  it  was 
"  now  his  turn."     Then  to  prolong  his  agony  he  was 


JEAN-PIERRE  QUERELLE  5 

left  alone  in  the  gloomy  chamber  where  Maillard's 
tribunal  had  formerly  sat.  This  tragic  room  was 
lighted  by  a  small,  strongly-barred  window  looking 
out  on  the  square.  From  this  window  the  doomed 
man  saw  the  soldiers  who  were  to  take  him  to  the 
plain  of  Grenelle  drawn  up  in  the  narrow  square  and 
perceived  the  crowd  indulging  in  rude  jokes  while 
they  waited  for  him  to  come  out.  One  of  the  sol- 
diers had  dismounted  and  tied  his  horse  to  the  bars  of 
the  window ;  while  within  the  prison  the  noise  of 
quick  footsteps  was  heard,  doors  opening  and  shutting 
heavily,  all  indicating  the  last  preparations.     .     .     . 

Querelle  remained  silent  for  a  long  time,  crouched 
up  in  a  corner.  Suddenly,  as  if  fear  had  driven  him 
mad,  he  began  to  call  desperately,  crying  that  he  did 
not  want  to  die,  that  he  would  tell  all  he  knew,  im- 
ploring his  gaolers  to  fly  to  the  First  Consul  and  ob- 
tain his  pardon,  at  the  same  time  calling  with  sobs 
upon  General  Murat,  Governor  of  Paris,  swearing 
that  he  would  make  a  complete  avowal  if  only  he 
would  command  the  soldiers  to  return  to  their  quar- 
ters. Although  Murat  could  see  nothing  in  these 
ravings  but  a  pretext  for  gaining  a  few  hours  of  life, 
he  felt  it  his  duty  to  refer  the  matter  to  the  First 
Consul,  who  sent  word  of  it  to  Real.  All  this  had 
taken  some  time  and  meanwhile  the  unfortunate 
Querelle,  seeing  the  soldiers  still  under  his  window 
and  the  impatient  crowd  clamouring  for  his  appear- 
ance, was  in  the  last  paroxysm  of  despair.  When 
Real  opened  the  door  he  saw,  cowering  on  the  flags 
and    shaking  with   fear,  a  little   man   with   a  pock- 


6      THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

marked  face,  black  hair,  a  thin  and  pointed  nose  and 
grey  eyes  continually  contracted  by  a  nervous  affec- 
tion. 

"You  have  announced  your  intention  of  making 
some  revelations,"  said  Real;  "I  have  come  to  hear 
them." 

But  the  miserable  creature  could  scarcely  articulate. 
Real  was  obliged  to  reassure  him,  to  have  him  carried 
into  another  room,  and  to  hold  out  hopes  of  mercy  if 
his  confessions  vi^ere  sufficiently  important.  At  last, 
still  trembling,  and  in  broken  w^ords,  vi^ith  great  effort 
the  prisoner  confessed  that  he  had  been  in  Paris  for 
six  months,  having  come  from  London  v^ith  Geor- 
ges Cadoudal  and  six  of  his  most  faithful  officers; 
they  had  been  joined  there  by  a  great  many  more 
from  Bretagne  or  England ;  there  were  now  more 
than  one  hundred  of  them  hidden  in  Paris,  waiting  for 
an  opportunity  to  carry  off  Bonaparte,  or  to  assassin- 
ate him.  He  added  more  details  as  he  grew  calmer. 
A  boat  from  the  English  navy  had  landed  them  at 
Biville  near  Dieppe ;  there  a  man  from  Eu  or  Treport 
had  met  them  and  conducted  them  a  little  way  from 
the  shore  to  a  farm  of  which  Querelle  did  not  know 
the  name.  They  left  again  in  the  night,  and  in  this 
way,  from  farm  to  farm,  they  journeyed  to  Paris 
where  they  did  not  meet  until  Georges  called  them 
together ;  they  received  their  pay  in  a  manner  agreed 
upon.  His  own  share  was  deposited  under  a  stone  in 
the  Champs  Elysees  every  week,  and  he  fetched  it 
from  there.  A  "  gentleman  "  had  come  to  meet  them 
at  the  last  stage  of  their  journey,  near  the  village  of 


JEAN-PIERRE  QUERELLE  7 

Saint-Leu-Taverny,  to  prepare  for  their  entry  into 
Paris  and  help  them  to  pass  the  barrier. 

One  point  stood  out  boldly  in  all  these  revelations : 
Georges  was  in  Paris  !  Real,  whose  account  we  have 
followed,  left  Querelle  and  hastened  to  the  Tuileries. 
The  First  Consul  was  in  the  hands  of  Constant,  his 
valet,  when  the  detective  was  announced.  Noticing 
his  pallor,  Bonaparte  supposed  he  had  just  come  from 
the  execution  of  the  three  condemned  men. 

"  It  is  over,  isn't  it  ?  "  he  said. 

"  No,  General,"  replied  Real. 

And  seeing  his  hesitation  the  Consul  continued : 
"  You  may  speak  before  Constant." 

"Well  then, — Georges  and  his  band  are  in  Paris." 

On  hearing  the  name  of  the  only  man  he  feared 
Bonaparte  turned  round  quickly,  made  the  sign  of  the 
cross,  and  taking  Real  by  the  sleeve  led  him  into  the 
adjoining  room. 

So  the  First  Consul's  police,  so  numerous,  so  care- 
ful, and  so  active,  the  police  who  according  to  the 
Moniteur  "  had  eyes  everywhere,"  had  been  at  fault 
for  six  months  !  A  hundred  reports  were  daily  piled 
up  on  Real's  table,  and  not  one  of  them  had  men- 
tioned the  goings  and  comings  of  Georges,  who 
travelled  with  his  Chouans  from  Dieppe  to  Paris,  sup- 
ported a  little  army,  and  planned  his  operations  with 
as  much  liberty  as  if  he  were  in  London.  These 
revelations  were  so  alarming  that  they  preferred  not 
to  believe  them.  Querelle  must  have  invented  this 
absurd  story  as  a  last  resource  for  prolonging  his  life. 
To  set   at   rest  all  doubt  on  this  subject  he  must  be 


8       THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

convinced  of  the  imposture.  If  it  was  true  that  he 
had  accompanied  the  "brigands'*  from  the  sea  to 
Paris,  he  could,  on  travelling  over  the  route,  show 
their  different  halting-places.  If  he  could  do  this  his 
life  was  to  be  spared. 

From  the  27th  January,  when  he  made  his  first  dec- 
larations, Querelle  was  visited  every  night  by  Real 
or  Desmarets  who  questioned  him  minutely.  The 
unfortunate  creature  had  sustained  such  a  shock,  that, 
even  while  maintaining  his  avowals,  he  would  be 
seized  with  fits  of  madness,  and  beating  his  breast, 
would  fall  on  his  knees  and  call  on  those  whom  fear 
of  death  had  caused  him  to  denounce,  imploring  their 
pardon.  When  he  learned  what  was  expected  of  him 
he  appeared  to  be  overwhelmed,  not  at  the  number 
of  victims  he  was  going  to  betray,  but  because  he  was 
aghast  at  the  idea  of  leading  the  detectives  over  a 
road  that  he  had  traversed  only  at  night,  and  that  he 
feared  he  might  not  remember.  The  expedition  set 
out  on  February  3d.  Real  had  taken  the  precaution 
to  have  an  escort  of  gendarmes  for  the  prisoner  whom 
Georges  and  his  followers  might  try  to  rescue.  The 
detachment  was  commanded  by  a  zealous  and  intelli- 
gent officer,  Lieutenant  Manginot,  assisted  by  a  giant 
called  Pasque,  an  astute  man  celebrated  for  the  sure- 
ness  of  his  attack.  They  left  Paris  at  dawn  by  the 
Saint-Denis  gate  and  took  the  road  to  I'Isle-Adam. 

The  first  day's  search  was  without  result.  Querelle 
thought  he  remembered  that  a  house  in  the  village  of 
Taverny  had  sheltered  the  Chouans  the  night  before 
their  entry  into  Paris  ;  but  at  the  time  he  had  not  paid 


JEAN-PIERRE  QUERELLE  9 

any  attention  to  localities,  and  in  spite  of  his  efforts, 
he  could  be  positive  of  nothing.  The  next  day  they 
took  the  Pontoise  road  from  Pierrelaye  to  Francon- 
ville, — with  no  more  success.  They  returned  towards 
Taverny  by  Ermont,  le  Plessis-Bouchard  and  the 
Chateau  de  Boissy.  Qucrelle,  who  knew  that  his  life 
was  at  stake,  showed  a  feverish  eagerness  which  was 
not  shared  by  Pasque  nor  Manginot,  who  were  now 
fully  persuaded  that  the  prisoner  had  only  wanted  to 
gain  time,  or  some  chance  of  escape.  They  thought 
of  abandoning  the  search  and  returning  to  Paris,  but 
Querelle  begged  so  vehemently  for  twenty-four  hours* 
reprieve  that  Manginot  weakened.  The  third  day, 
therefore,  they  explored  the  environs  of  Taverny  and 
the  borders  of  the  forest  as  far  as  Bessancourt. 
Querelle  now  led  them  by  chance,  thinking  he  recog- 
nised a  group  of  trees,  a  turn  of  the  road,  even  im- 
agining he  had  found  a  farm  "  by  the  particular 
manner  in  which  the  dog  barked." 

At  last,  worn  out,  the  little  band  were  returning  to 
Paris  when,  on  passing  through  the  village  of  Saint- 
Leu,  Querelle  gave  a  triumphant  cry  !  He  had  just 
recognised  the  long-looked  for  house,  and  he  gave  so 
exact  a  description  of  it  and  its  inhabitants  that 
Pasque  did  not  hesitate  to  interrogate  the  proprietor,  a 
vine-dresser  named  Denis  Lamotte.  He  laid  great 
stress  on  the  fact  that  he  had  a  son  in  the  service  of  an 
officer  of  the  Consul's  guard ;  his  other  son,  Vincent 
Lamotte,  lived  with  him.  The  worthy  man  appeared 
very  much  surprised  at  the  invasion  of  his  house,  but 
his    peasant   cunning   could   not   long  withstand  the 


10    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

professional  cleverness  of  the  detective,  and  after  a 
few  minutes  he  gave  up. 

He  admitted  that  at  the  beginning  of  July  last  he 
had  received  a  person  calling  himself  Houvel,  or 
Saint-Vincent,  who  under  pretence  of  buying  some 
wine,  had  proposed  to  him  to  lodge  seven  or  eight 
persons  for  a  night.  Lamotte  had  accepted.  On 
the  evening  of  the  30th  August  Houvel  had  reap- 
peared and  told  him  that  the  men  would  arrive  that 
night.  He  went  to  fetch  them  in  the  neighbourhood 
of  I'Isle-Adam,  and  his  son  Vincent  accompanied 
him  to  serve  as  guide  to  the  travellers,  whom  he  met 
on  the  borders  of  the  wood  of  La  Muette.  They 
numbered  seven,  one  of  whom,  very  stout  and  cov- 
ered with  sweat,  stopped  in  the  wood  to  change  his 
shirt.  They  all  appeared  to  be  very  tired,  and  only 
two  of  them  were  on  horseback.  They  arrived  at 
Lamotte's  house  at  Saint-Leu  about  two  o'clock  in 
the  morning;  the  horses  were  stabled  and  the  men 
stretched  themselves  out  on  the  straw  in  one  of  the 
rooms  of  the  house.  Lamotte  noticed  that  each  of 
them  carried  two  pistols.  They  slept  long  and  had 
dinner  about  twelve  o'clock.  Two  individuals,  who 
had  driven  from  Paris  and  left  their  cabriolets,  one  at 
the  "White  Cross"  the  other  at  the  "Crown," 
talked  with  the  travellers  who,  about  seven  o'clock, 
resumed  their  journey  to  the  capital.  Each  of  the 
"  individuals "  took  one  in  his  cab ;  two  went  on 
horseback  and  the  others  awaited  the  phaeton  which 
ran  between  Taverny  and  Paris. 

This  account  tallied  so  well  with  Querelle's  decla- 


JEAN-PIERRE  QUERELLE  ii 

rations  that  there  was  no  longer  any  room  for  doubt. 
The  band  of  seven  was  composed  of  Georges  and 
his  staff;  the  "stout  man  "  was  Georges  himself,  and 
Querelle  gave  the  names  of  the  others,  all  skilful  and 
formidable  Chouans.  Lamotte,  on  his  part,  did  not 
hesitate  to  name  the  one  who  had  conducted  the 
"  brigands "  to  the  wood  of  La  Muette.  He  was 
called  Nicolas  Massignon,  a  farmer  of  Jouy-le-Comte. 
Pasque  set  out  with  his  gendarmes,  and  Massignon 
admitted  that  he  had  brought  the  travellers  from  across 
the  Oise  to  the  Avenue  de  Nesles,  his  brother,  Jean- 
Baptiste  Massignon,  a  farmer  of  Saint-Lubin,  having 
conducted  them  thither.  Pasque  immediately  took 
the  road  to  Saint-Lubin  and  marched  all  night.  At 
four  o'clock  in  the  morning  he  arrived  at  the  house 
of  Jean-Baptiste,  who,  surprised  in  jumping  out  of 
bed,  remembered  that  he  had  put  up  some  men  that 
his  brother-in-law,  Quantin-Rigaud,  a  cultivator  at 
Auteuil,  had  brought  there.  Pasque  now  held  four 
links  of  the  chain,  and  Manginot  started  for  the 
country  to  follow  the  track  of  the  conspirators  to  the 
sea.  Savary  had  preceded  him  in  order  to  surprise  a 
new  disembarkation  announced  by  Querelle.  Arrived 
at  the  coast  he  perceived,  at  some  distance,  an  English 
brig  tacking,  but  in  spite  of  all  their  precautions  to 
prevent  her  taking  alarm,  the  vessel  did  not  come  in. 
They  saw  her  depart  on  a  signal  given  on  shore  by  a 
young  man  on  horseback,  whom  Savary's  gendarmes 
pursued  as  far  as  the  forest  of  Eu,  where  he  disap- 
peared. 

In  twelve  days,  always  accompanied  by  Querelle, 


12    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

Manginot  had  ended  his  quest,  and  put  into  the  hands 
of  Real  such  a  mass  of  depositions  that  it  was  possi- 
ble, as  we  shall  show,  to  reconstruct  the  voyage  of 
Georges  and  his  companions  to  Paris  from  the  sea. 

On  the  night  of  August  23,  1803,  the  English 
cutter  "Vincejo,"  commanded  by  Captain  Wright, 
had  landed  the  conspirators  at  the  foot  of  the  cliffs  of 
Biville,  a  steep  wall  of  rocks  and  clay  three  hundred 
and  twenty  feet  high.  From  time  immemorial,  in  the 
place  called  the  hollow  of  Parfonval  there  had  existed 
an  "  estamperche,"  a  long  cord  fixed  to  some  piles, 
which  was  used  by  the  country  people  for  descending 
to  the  beach.  It  was  necessary  to  pull  oneself  up  this 
long  rope  by  the  arms,  a  most  painful  proceeding  for 
a  man  as  corpulent  as  Georges.  At  last  the  seven 
Chouans  were  gathered  at  the  top  of  the  clifF,  and 
under  the  guidance  of  Troche,  son  of  the  former 
procureur  of  the  commune  of  Eu,  and  one  of  the 
most  faithful  adherents  of  the  party,  they  arrived  at 
the  farm  of  La  Poterie,  near  the  hamlet  of  Heudeli- 
mont,  about  two  leagues  from  the  coast.  Whilst  the 
farmer,  Detrimont,  was  serving  them  drinks,  a  mys- 
terious personage,  who  called  himself  M.  Beaumont, 
came  to  consult  with  them.  He  was  a  tall  man,  with 
the  figure  of  a  Hercules,  a  swarthy  complexion,  a 
high  forehead  and  black  eyebrows  and  hair.  He  dis- 
appeared in  the  early  morning. 

Georges  and  his  companions  spent  the  whole  of  the 
24th  at  La  Poterie.  They  left  the  farm  in  the  night 
and  marched  five  leagues  to  Preuseville,  where  a  M. 
Loisel    sheltered    them.     The    route    was    cleverly 


JEAN-PIERRE  QUERELLE  13 

planned  not  to  leave  the  vast  forest  of  Eu,  which  pro- 
vided shaded  roads,  and  in  case  of  alarm,  almost  im- 
penetrable hiding-places.  On  the  night  of  the  26th 
they  again  covered  five  leagues,  through  the  forest  of 
Eu,  arriving  at  Aumale  at  two  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing, and  lodging  with  a  man  called  Monnier,  who 
occupied  the  ancient  convent  of  the  Dominican  Nuns. 
"The  stout  man"  rode  a  black  horse  which  Monnier, 
for  want  of  a  stable,  hid  in  a  corridor  in  the  house, 
the  halter  tied  to  the  key  of  the  door.  As  for  the 
men,  they  threw  themselves  pell-mell  on  some  straw, 
and  did  not  go  out  during  the  day.  M.  Beaumont 
had  reappeared  at  Aumale.  He  arrived  on  horseback 
and,  after  passing  an  hour  with  the  conspirators,  had 
left  in  the  direction  of  Quincampoix.  They  had 
seen  him  again  with  Boniface  Colliaux,  called  Boni, 
at  their  next  stage,  Feuquieres,  four  leagues  off,  which 
they  reached  on  the  night  of  the  27th.  They  passed 
the  28th  with  Leclerc,  five  leagues  further  on,  at  the 
farm  of  Monceaux  which  belonged  to  the  Count  d'- 
Hardivilliers,  situated  in  the  commune  of  Saint- 
Omer-en-Chaussee.  From  there,  avoiding  Beauvais, 
the  son  of  Leclerc  had  guided  them  to  the  house  of 
Quentin-Rigaud  at  x\uteuil,  and  on  the  29th  he  had 
taken  them  to  Massignon,  the  farmer  of  Saint-Lubin, 
who  in  turn  had  passed  them  on,  the  next  day,  to  his 
brother  Nicolas,  charged,  as  we  have  seen,  to  help 
them  cross  the  Oise  and  direct  them  to  the  wood  of 
La  Muette,  where  Denis  Lamotte,  the  vine-dresser  of 
Saint-Leu,  had  come  to  fetch  them. 

Such  was  the  result  of  Manginot's  enquiries.      He 


14     THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

had  reconstructed  Georges'  itinerary  with  most  re- 
markable perspicacity  and  this  was  the  more  impor- 
tant as  the  chain  of  stations  from  the  sea  to  Paris 
necessitated  long  and  careful  organisation,  and  as  the 
conspirators  used  the  route  frequently.  Thus,  two 
men  mentioned  in  the  disembarkation  of  August  23d 
had  returned  to  Biville  in  mid-September.  On  Octo- 
ber 2d  Georges  and  three  of  his  officers,  coming  from 
Paris,  had  again  presented  themselves  before  Lamotte, 
who  had  conducted  them  to  the  wood  of  La  Muette, 
where  Massignon  was  waiting  for  them.  It  was 
proved  that  their  journeys  had  been  made  with  perfect 
regularity ;  the  same  guides,  the  same  night  marches, 
the  same  hiding-places  by  day.  The  house  of  Boni- 
face Colliaux  at  Feuquieres,  that  of  Monnier  at  Au- 
male,  and  the  farm  of  La  Poterie  seemed  to  be  the 
principal  meeting-places.  Another  passage  took  place 
in  the  second  fortnight  of  November,  and  another  in 
December,  corresponding  to  a  new  disembarkation. 
In  January,  1804,  Georges  made  the  journey  for  the 
fourth  time,  to  await  at  Biville  the  English  corvette 
bringing  Pichegru,  the  Marquis  de  Riviere  and  four 
other  conspirators.  A  fisherman  called  £tienne 
Home  gave  some  valuable  details  of  this  arrival.  He 
had  noticed  particularly  the  man  who  appeared  to  be  the 
leader — "  a  fat  man,  with  a  full,  rather  hard  face,  round- 
shouldered,  and  with  a  slight  trouble  in  his  arms." 

"  These  gentlemen,"  he  added,  "  usually  arrived  at 
night,  and  left  about  midnight;  they  were  satisfied 
with  our  humble  fare,  and  always  kept  together  in  a 
corner,  talking." 


JEAN-PIERRE  QUERELLE  15 

When  the  tide  was  full  Home  went  down  to  the 
beach  to  watch  for  the  sloop.  The  password  was 
"Jacques,"  to  which  the  men  in  the  boat  replied 
"Thomas." 

Manginot,  as  may  well  be  imagined,  arrested  all 
who  in  any  way  had  assisted  the  conspirators,  and 
hurried  them  off  to  Paris.  The  tower  of  the  Temple 
became  crowded  with  peasants,  with  women  in  Nor- 
mandy caps,  and  fishermen  of  Dieppe,  dumbfounded 
at  finding  themselves  in  the  famous  place  where  the 
monarchy  had  suffered  its  last  torments.  But  these 
were  the  only  small  fry  of  the  conspiracy,  and  the 
First  Consul,  who  liked  to  pose  as  the  victim  exposed 
to  the  blows  of  an  entire  party,  could  not  with 
decency  take  these  inoffensive  peasants  before  a  high 
court  of  justice.  While  waiting  for  chance  or  more 
treachery  to  reveal  the  refuge  of  Georges  Cadoudal, 
the  discovery  of  the  organisers  of  the  plot  was  most 
important,  and  this  seemed  well-nigh  impossible,  al- 
though Manginot  had  reason  to  think  that  the  centre 
of  the  conspiracy  was  near  Aumale  or  Feuquieres. 

His  attention  had  been  attracted  by  a  deposition 
mentioning  the  black  horse  that  Georges  had  ridden 
from  Preuseville  to  Aumale — the  one  that  the  school- 
master Monnier  had  hidden  in  a  corridor  of  his  house. 
With  this  slight  clue  he  started  for  the  country. 
There  he  learned  that  a  workman  called  Saint-Aubin, 
who  lived  in  the  hamlet  of  Coppegueule,  had  been 
ordered  to  take  the  horse  to  an  address  on  a  letter 
which  Monnier  had  given  him.  This  man,  when 
called   upon   to  appear,  remembered  that  he  had  led 


i6    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

the  horse  "  to  a  fine  house  in  the  environs  of  Gour- 
nay."  When  he  arrived  there  a  servant  had  taken 
the  animal  to  the  stables,  and  a  lady  had  come  out 
and  asked  for  the  letter,  but  he  denied  all  knovi^ledge 
of  the  lady's  name  or  the  situation  of  the  house. 

Manginot  resolved  to  search  the  country  in  com- 
pany vi^ith  Saint-Aubin,  but  he  was  either  stupid  or 
pretended  to  be  so,  and  refused  to  give  any  assistance. 
He  led  the  gendarmes  six  leagues,  as  far  as  Aumale, 
and  said,  at  first,  that  he  recognised  the  Chateau  de 
Mercatet-sur-Villers,  but  on  looking  carefully  at  the 
avenues  and  the  arrangement  of  the  buildings,  he  de- 
clared he  had  never  been  there.  The  same  thing 
happened  at  Beaulevrier  and  at  Mothois  ;  but  on  ap- 
proaching Gournay  his  memory  returned,  and  he  led 
Manginot  to  a  house  in  the  hamlet  of  Saint-Clair 
v^^hich  he  asserted  w^as  the  one  to  wrhich  Monnier  had 
sent  him.  On  entering  the  courtyard  he  recognised 
the  servant  to  whom  he  had  given  the  horse  six 
months  before,  a  groom  named  Joseph  Planchon. 
Manginot  instantly  arrested  the  man,  and  then  began 
his  search. 

The  house  belonged  to  an  ex-officer  of  marine, 
Francois  Robert  d'Ache,  who  rarely  occupied  it,  be- 
ing an  ardent  sportsman  and  preferring  his  estates 
near  Neufchatel-en-Bray,  where  there  was  more  game. 
Saint-Clair  was  occupied  by  Mme.  d'Ache,  an  in- 
valid who  rarely  left  her  room,  and  her  two  daughters, 
Louise  and  Alexandrine,  as  well  as  d'Ache's  mother, 
a  bedridden  octogenarian,  and  a  young  man  named 
Caqucray,    who   was    also    called    the    Chevalier   de 


JEAN-PIERRE  QUERELLE  17 

Lorme,  who  farmed  the  lands  of  M.  and  Mme. 
d'Ache,  whose  property  had  recently  been  separated 
by  law.  Caqueray  looked  upon  himself  as  one  of  the 
family,  and  Louise,  the  eldest  girl,  was  betrothed  to 
him. 

Nothing  could  have  been  less  suspicious  than  the 
members  of  this  patriarchal  household,  who  seemed 
to  know  nothing  of  politics,  and  whose  tranquil  lives 
were  apparently  unaffected  by  revolutions.  The 
absence  of  the  head  of  so  united  a  family  was  the 
only  astonishing  thing  about  it.  But  Mme.  d'Ache 
and  her  daughters  explained  that  he  was  bored  at 
Saint-Clair  and  usually  lived  in  Rouen,  that  he  hunted 
a  great  deal,  and  spent  his  time  between  his  relatives 
who  lived  near  Gaillon  and  friends  at  Saint-Germain- 
en-Laye.  They  could  not  say  where  he  was  at  pres- 
ent, having  had  no  news  of  him  for  two  months. 

But  on  questioning  the  servants  Manginot  learned 
some  facts  that  changed  the  aspect  of  affairs. 
Lambert,  the  gardener,  had  recently  been  shot  at 
Evreux,  convicted  of  having  taken  part  with  a  band 
of  Chouans  in  an  attack  on  the  stage-coach,  Caque- 
ray's  brother  had  just  been  executed  for  the  same 
cause  at  Rouen.  Constant  Prevot,  a  farm  hand,  ac- 
cused of  having  killed  a  gendarme,  had  been  acquitted, 
but  died  soon  after  his  return  to  Saint-Clair.  Man- 
ginot had  unearthed  a  nest  of  Chouans,  and  only 
when  he  learned  that  the  description  of  d'Ache  was 
singularly  like  that  of  the  mysterious  Beaumont  who 
had  been  seen  with  Georges  at  La  Poterie,  Aumale 
and    Feuquieres,  did  he  undersand  the  importance  of 


i8    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

his  discovery.  After  a  rapid  and  minute  inquiry,  he 
took  it  upon  himself  to  arrest  every  one  at  Saint- 
Clair,  and  sent  an  express  to  Real,  informing  him  of 
the  affair,  and  asking  for  further  instructions. 

It  had  been  the  custom  for  several  years,  u^hen  a 
person  was  denounced  to  the  police  as  an  enemy  of 
the  government,  or  a  simple  malcontent,  to  have  his 
name  put  up  in  Desmarets'  office,  and  to  add  to  it, 
in  proportion  to  the  denunciations,  every  bit  of  infor- 
mation that  could  help  to  make  a  complete  portrait  of 
the  individual.  That  of  d'Ache  vi^as  consulted. 
There  were  found  annotations  of  this  sort :  "  By 
reason  of  his  audacity  he  is  one  of  the  most  impor- 
tant of  the  royalists,"  "  Last  December  he  took  a 
passport  at  Rouen  for  Saint-Germain-en-Laye,  where 
he  was  called  by  business,"  "  His  host  at  Saint-Ger- 
main, Brandin  de  Saint-Laurent,  declares  that  he  did 
not  sleep  there  regularly,  sometimes  two,  sometimes 
three  days  at  a  time."  At  last  a  letter  was  inter- 
cepted addressed  to  Mme.  d'Ache,  containing  this 
phrase,  which  they  recognised  as  Georges'  style : 
"Tell  M.  Durand  that  things  are  taking  a  good 
turn,  ...  his  presence  is  necessary.  .  .  . 
He  will  have  news  of  me  at  the  Hotel  de  Bordeaux, 
rue  de  Grenelle,  Saint-Honore,  where  he  will  ask  for 
Houvel."  Now  Houvel  was  the  unknown  man  who, 
first  of  all,  had  gone  to  the  vine-dresser  of  Saint-Leu 
to  persuade  him  to  aid  the  "brigands."  Thus 
d' Ache's  route  was  traced  from  Biville  to  Paris  and 
the  conclusion  drawn  that,  knowing  all  the  country 
about   Bray,  where   he   owned  estates,  he  had  been 


JEAN-PIERRE  QUERELLE  19 

chosen  to  arrange  the  itinerary  of  the  conspirators 
and  to  organise  their  journeys.  He  had  accompanied 
them  from  La  Poterie  to  p'euquieres,  sometimes  going 
before  them,  sometimes  staying  with  them  in  the 
farms  where  he  had  found  for  them  places  of  refuge. 
In  default  of  Georges,  then,  d'Ache  was  the  next 
best  person  to  seize,  and  the  First  Consul  appreciated 
this  fact  so  keenly  that  he  organised  two  brigades  of 
picked  soldiers  and  fifty  dragoons.  But  they  only 
served  to  escort  poor  sick  Mme.  d'Ache,  her  daughter 
Louise  and  their  friend  Caqueray,  who  were  im- 
mediately locked  up — the  last  named  in  the  Tower  of 
the  Temple,  and  the  two  women  in  the  Madel- 
onnettes.  The  infirm  old  grandmother  remained  at 
Saint-Clair,  while  Alexandrine  wished  to  follow  her 
mother  and  sister,  and  was  left  quite  at  liberty.  But 
d'Ache  could  not  be  found.  Manginot's  army  had 
searched  the  whole  country,  from  Beauvais  to  Tre- 
port,  without  success;  they  had  sought  him  at  Saint- 
Germain-en-Laye,  where  he  was  said  to  be  hidden,  at 
Saint-Denis-de-Monts,  at  Saint-Romain,  at  Rouen. 
The  prefects  of  Eure  and  Seine-Inferieure  were 
ordered  to  set  all  their  police  on  his  track.  The  re- 
sult of  this  campaign  was  pitiable,  and  they  only  suc- 
ceeded in  arresting  d* Ache's  younger  brother,  an 
inoffensive  fellow  of  feeble  mind,  appropriately  named 
"  Placide,"  who  was  nicknamed  "  Tourlour,"  on  ac- 
count of  his  lack  of  wit  and  his  rotundity.  His 
greatest  fear  was  of  being  mistaken  for  his  brother, 
which  frequently  happened.  As  the  elder  d'Ache 
could  never  be  caught,  Placide,  who  loved  tranquillity 


20     THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

and  hardly  ever  went  away  from  home,  was  invariably 
taken  in  his  stead.  It  happened  again  this  time,  and 
Manginot  seized  him,  thinking  he  had  done  a  fine 
thing.  But  the  first  interview  undeceived  him. 
However,  he  sent  word  of  his  capture  to  Real,  who, 
in  his  zeal  to  execute  the  First  Consul's  orders,  took 
upon  himself  to  determine  that  Placide  d'Ache  was 
as  dangerous  a  royalist "  brigand  "  as  his  brother.  He 
ordered  the  prisoner  to  be  brought  under  a  strong  es- 
cort to  Paris,  determining  to  interrogate  him  himself. 
But  as  soon  as  he  had  seen  "  Tourlour,"  and  had  asked 
him  a  few  questions,  including  one  as  to  his  behaviour 
during  the  Terror,  and  received  for  answer,  "  I  hid 
myself  with  mamma,"  Real  understood  that  such  a 
man  could  not  be  brought  before  a  tribunal  as  a  rival 
to  Bonaparte.  He  kept  him,  however,  in  prison,  so 
that  the  name  of  d'Ache  could  appear  on  the  gaol- 
book  of  the  Temple. 

In  the  meantime,  on  the  9th  of  March  1804,  at 
the  hour  when  Placide  d'Ache  was  being  interrogated, 
an  event  occurred,  which  transformed  the  drama  and 
hastened  its  tragic  denouement. 


CHAPTER  II 

THE    CAPTURE    OF    GEORGES    CADOUDAL 

Georges  had  arrived  in  Paris  on  September  I, 
1803,  in  a  yellow  cabriolet  driven  by  the  Marquis 
d'Hozier  dressed  as  a  coachman.  D'Hozier,  who 
was  formerly  page  to  the  King  and  had  for  several 
months  been  established  as  a  livery-stable  keeper  in 
the  Rue  Vieille-du-Temple,  conducted  Georges  to  the 
Hotel  de  Bordeaux,  kept  by  the  widow  Dathy,  in  the 
Rue  de  Grenelle-Saint-Honore. 

The  task  of  finding  hiding-places  in  Paris  for  the 
conspirators,  had  been  given  to  Houvel,  called  Saint- 
Vincent,  whom  we  have  already  seen  at  Saint-Leu. 
Houvel's  real  name  was  Raoul  Gaillard.  A  perfect 
type  of  the  incorrigible  Chouan,  he  was  a  fine-look- 
ing man  of  thirty,  fresh-complexioned,  with  white 
teeth  and  a  ready  smile,  and  dressed  in  the  prevailing 
fashion.  He  was  a  close  companion  of  d'Ache,  and 
it  was  even  said  that  they  had  the  same  mistress  at 
Rouen.  The  speciality  of  Raoul  and  his  brother 
Armand  was  attacking  coaches  which  carried  govern- 
ment money.  Their  takings  served  to  pay  recruits 
to  the  royalist  cause.  For  the  past  six  months  Raoul 
Gaillard  had  been  in  Paris  looking  for  safe  lodging- 
places.      He   was    assisted    in    this    delicate    task    by 

21 


22    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

Bouvet  de  Lozier,  another  of  d' Ache's  intimate 
friends,  who  like  him,  had  served  in  the  navy  before 
the  Revolution. 

Georges  w^ent  first  to  Raoul  Gaillard  at  the  Hotel 
de  Bordeaux,  but  he  left  in  the  evening  and  slept  with 
Denaud  at  the  "  Cloche  d'Or,"  at  the  corner  of  the 
Rue  du  Bac,  and  the  Rue  de  Varenne.  He  was 
joined  there  by  his  faithful  servant  Louis  Picot,  who 
had  arrived  in  Paris  the  same  day.  The  "  Cloche 
d'Or  "  was  a  sort  of  headquarters  for  the  conspirators ; 
they  filled  the  house,  and  Denaud  was  entirely  at  their 
service.  He  was  devoted  to  the  cause,  and  not  at  all 
timid.  He  had  placed  Georges'  cab  in  the  stable  of 
Senator  Francois  de  Neufchateau,  whose  house  was 
next  door. 

Six  weeks  before,  Bouvet  de  Lozier  had  taken, 
through  Mme.  Costard  de  Saint-Leger,  his  mistress, 
an  isolated  house  at  Chaillot  near  the  Seine.  He  had 
put  there  as  concierge,  a  man  named  Daniel  and  his 
wife,  both  of  whom  he  knew  to  be  devoted  to  him. 
A  porch  with  fourteen  steps  led  to  the  front  hall  of 
the  house.  This  served  as  dining-room.  It  was 
lighted  by  four  windows  and  paved  with  squares  of 
black  and  white  marble ;  a  walnut  table  with  eight 
covers,  cane-seated  chairs,  the  door-panels  represent- 
ing the  games  of  children,  and  striped  India  muslin 
curtains  completed  the  decoration  of  this  room.  The 
next  room  had  also  four  windows,  and  contained  an 
ottoman  and  six  chairs  covered  with  blue  and  white 
Utrecht  velvet,  two  armchairs  of  brocaded  silk,  and 
two  mahogany  tables  with  marble  tops.     Then  came 


CAPTURE  OF  GEORGES  CADOUDAL    23 

the  bedroom  with  a  four-post  bed,  consoles  and  mir- 
rors. On  the  first  floor  was  an  apartment  of  three 
rooms,  and  in  an  adjoining  building,  a  large  hall  which 
could  be  used  as  an  assembly-room.  The  whole  was 
surrounded  by  a  large  garden,  closed  on  the  side 
towards  the  river-bank  by  strong  double  gates. 

If  we  have  lingered  over  this  description,  it  is  be- 
cause it  seems  to  say  so  much.  Who  would  have 
imagined  that  this  elegant  little  house  had  been  rented 
by  Georges  to  shelter  himself  and  his  companions  ? 
These  men,  whose  disinterestedness  and  tenacity  we 
cannot  but  admire,  who  for  ten  years  had  fought  with 
heroic  fortitude  for  the  royal  cause,  enduring  the 
hardest  privations,  braving  tempests,  sleeping  on  straw 
and  marching  at  night ;  these  men  whose  bodies  were 
hardened  by  exposure  and  fatigue,  retained  a  purity 
of  mind  and  sincerity  really  touching.  They  never 
ceased  to  believe  that  "  the  Prince  "  for  whom  they 
fought  would  one  day  come  and  share  their  danger. 
It  had  been  so  often  announced  and  so  often  put  ofF 
that  a  little  mistrust  might  have  been  forgiven  them, 
but  they  had  faith,  and  that  inspired  them  with  a 
thought  which  seemed  quite  simple  to  them  but  which 
was  really  sublime.  While  they  were  lodging  in 
holes,  living  on  a  pittance  parsimoniously  taken  from 
the  party's  funds,  they  kept  a  comfortable  and  secure 
retreat  ready,  where  "their  prince" — who  was  never 
to  come — could  wait  at  his  case,  until  at  the  price  of 
their  lives,  they  had  assured  the  success  of  his  cause. 
If  the  history  of  our  bloody  feuds  has  always  an  epic 
quality,  it  is  because  it  abounds  in  examples  of  blind 


24     THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

devotion,  so  impossible  nowadays  that  they  seem  to 
us  improbable  exaggerations. 

After  six  days  at  the  "  Cloche  d'Or,"  Georges 
took  possession  of  the  house  at  Chaillot,  but  he  did 
not  stay  there  long,  for  about  the  25th  of  September 
he  was  at  21  Rue  Careme-Prenant  in  the  Faubourg 
du  Temple.  Hozier  had  rented  an  entresol  there, 
and  had  employed  a  man  called  Spain,  who  had  an 
aptitude  for  this  sort  of  work,  to  make  a  secret  place 
in  it.  Spain,  under  pretence  of  indispensable  repairs, 
had  shut  himself  up  with  his  tools  in  the  apartment, 
and  had  made  a  cleverly-concealed  trap-door,  by 
means  of  which,  in  case  of  alarm,  the  tenants  could 
descend  to  the  ground  floor  and  go  out  by  an  unoccu- 
pied shop  whose  door  opened  under  the  porch  of  the 
house.  Spain  took  a  sort  of  pride  in  his  strange  tal- 
ent; he  was  very  proud  of  a  hiding-place  he  had 
made  in  the  lodging  of  a  friend,  the  tailor  Michelot, 
in  the  Rue  de  Bussy,  which  Michelot  himself  did  not 
suspect.  The  tailor  was  obliged  to  be  absent  often, 
and  four  of  the  conspirators  had  successively  lodged 
there.  When  he  was  away  his  lodgers  "limbered 
up  "  in  this  apartment,  but  as  soon  as  they  heard  his 
step  on  the  stairs,  they  reentered  their  cell,  and  the 
worthy  Michelot,  who  vaguely  surmised  that  there 
was  some  mystery  about  his  house,  only  solved  the 
enigma  when  he  was  cited  to  appear  before  the 
tribunal  as  an  accomplice  in  the  royalist  plot  of 
which  he  had  never  even  heard  the  name. 

Georges  started  for  his  first  journey  to  Biville  from 
the   Rue   Careme-Prenant.     On   January  23d  he  re- 


CAPTURE  OF  GEORGES  CADOUDAL     25 

turned  finally  to  Paris,  bringing  with  him  Pichegru, 
Jules  de  Polignac  and  the  Marquis  de  Riviere,  whom 
he  had  gone  to  the  farm  of  La  Poterie  to  receive. 
He  lodged  Pichegru  with  an  employe  of  the  finance 
department,  named  Verdet,  who  had  given  the  Chou- 
ans  the  second  floor  of  his  house  in  the  Rue  du 
Puits-de-l'Hermite.  They  stayed  there  three  days. 
On  the  27th,  Georges  took  the  general  to  the  house 
at  Chaillot  "where  they  only  slept  a  few  nights." 
At  the  very  moment  that  they  went  there  Querelle 
signed  his  first  declarations  before  Real. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  follow  the  movements  of 
Pichegru,  nor  to  relate  his  interviews  with  Moreau. 
The  organisation  of  the  plot  is  what  interests  us,  by 
reason  of  the  part  taken  in  it  by  d'Ache.  No  one 
has  ever  explained  what  might  have  resulted  politic- 
ally from  the  combination  of  Moreau's  embittered 
ambition,  the  insouciance  of  Pichegru,  and  the  fanat- 
ical ardour  of  Georges.  Of  this  ill-assorted  trio  the 
latter  alone  had  decided  on  action,  although  he  was 
handicapped  by  the  obstinacy  of  the  princes  in  refu- 
sing to  come  to  the  fore  until  the  throne  was  reestab- 
lished. He  told  the  truth  when  he  aflirmed  before 
the  judges,  later  on,  that  he  had  only  come  to  France 
to  attempt  a  restoration,  the  means  for  which  were 
never  decided  on,  for  they  had  not  agreed  on  the 
manner  in  which  they  should  act  towards  Bonaparte. 
A  strange  plan  had  at  first  been  suggested.  The 
Comte  d'Artois,  at  the  head  of  a  band  of  royalists 
equal  in  number  to  the  Consul's  escort,  was  to  meet 
him  on  the  road  to  Malmaison,  and  provoke  him  to 


26    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

single  combat,  but  the  presence  of  the  Prince  was 
necessary  for  this  revival  of  the  Combat  of  Thirty, 
and  as  he  refused  to  appear,  this  project  of  rather 
antiquated  chivalry  had  to  be  abandoned.  Their  next 
idea  was  to  kidnap  Bonaparte.  Some  determined  men 
— as  all  of  Georges'  companions  were — undertook  to 
get  into  the  park  at  Malmaison  at  night,  seize  Bona- 
parte and  throw  him  into  a  carriage  which  thirty 
Chouans,  dressed  as  dragoons,  would  escort  as  far  as 
the  coast.  They  actually  began  to  put  this  theatrical 
"  coup  "  into  execution.  Mention  is  made  of  it  in 
the  Memoirs  of  the  valet  Constant,  and  certain  details 
of  the  investigation  confirm  these  assertions.  Raoul 
Gaillard,  who  still  lived  at  the  Hotel  de  Bordeaux,  and 
entertained  his  friends  Denis  Lamotte,  the  vine- 
dresser of  Saint-Leu  and  Massignon,  farmer  of  Saint- 
Lubin  there,  had  discovered  that  Massignon  leased 
some  land  from  Macheret,  the  First  Consul's  coach- 
man, and  had  determined  at  all  hazards  to  make  this 
man's  acquaintance.  He  even  had  the  audacity  to 
show  himself  at  the  Chateau  of  Saint-Cloud  in  the 
hope  of  meeting  him.  Besides  this,  Genty,  a  tailor 
in  the  Palais-Royal,  had  delivered  four  chasseur  uni- 
forms, ordered  by  Raoul  Gaillard,  and  Debausseaux, 
a  tailor  at  Aumale,  during  one  of  their  journeys  had 
measured  some  of  Monnier's  guests  for  cloaks  and 
breeches  of  green  cloth,  which  only  needed  metal 
buttons  to  be  transformed  into  dragoon  uniforms. 

Querelle's  denunciations  put  a  stop  to  all  these 
preparations.  Nothing  remained  but  to  run  to  earth 
again.     A  great  many  of  the  conspirators  succeeded 


CAPTURE  OF  GEORGES  CADOUDAL    27 

in  doing  this,  but  all  were  not  so  fortunate.  The 
first  one  seized  by  Real's  men  was  Louis  Picot, 
Georges*  servant.  He  was  a  coarse,  rough  man,  en- 
tirely devoted  to  his  master,  under  whose  orders  he 
had  served  in  the  Veudee.  He  was  taken  to  the  Pre- 
fecture and  promised  immediate  liberty  in  exchange 
for  one  word  that  would  put  the  police  on  the  track 
of  Georges.  He  was  offered  1,500  louis  d*or,  which 
they  took  care  to  count  out  before  him,  and  on  his 
refusal  to  betray  his  master.  Real  had  him  put  to  the 
torture.  Bertrand,  the  concierge  of  the  depot,  under- 
took the  task.  The  unfortunate  Picot's  fingers  were 
crushed  by  means  of  an  old  gun  and  a  screw-driver, 
his  feet  were  burned  in  the  presence  of  the  officers  of 
the  guard.  He  revealed  nothing.  "  He  has  borne 
everything  with  criminal  resignation,"  the  judge-in- 
quisitor, Thuriot,  wrote  to  Real ;  "  he  is  a  fanatic, 
hardened  by  crime.  I  have  now  left  him  to  solitude 
and  suffering ;  I  will  begin  again  to-morrow ;  he 
knows  where  Georges  is  hidden  and  must  be  made  to 
reveal  it." 

The  next  day  the  torture  was  continued,  and  this 
time  agony  wrung  the  address  of  the  Chaillot  house 
from  Picot.  They  hastened  there — only  to  find  it 
empty.  But  the  day  had  not  been  wasted,  for  the 
police,  on  an  anonymous  accusation,  had  seized 
Bouvet  de  Lozier  as  he  was  entering  the  house  of  his 
mistress,  Mme.  de  Saint-Leger,  in  the  Rue  Saint- 
Sauveur.  He  was  interrogated  and  denied  everything. 
Thrown  into  the  Temple,  he  hanged  himself  in  the 
night,  by  tying  his  necktie  to  the  bars  of  his  cell.     A 


28     THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

gaoler  hearing  his  death-rattle,  opened  the  door  and 
took  him  down ;  but  Bouvet,  three-quarters  dead,  as 
soon  as  they  had  brought  him  to,  was  seized  with  con- 
vulsive tremblings,  and  in  his  delirium  he  spoke. 

This  attempted  suicide,  to  tell  the  truth,  was  only 
half  believed  in,  and  many  people,  having  heard  of 
the  things  that  were  done  in  the  Temple  and  the  Pre- 
fecture, believed  that  Bouvet  had  been  assisted  in  his 
strangling,  just  as  they  had  put  Picot's  feet  to  the  fire. 
What  gave  colour  to  these  suspicions  was  the  fact 
that  Bouvet's  hands  "  were  horribly  swollen  "  when 
he  appeared  before  Real  the  next  day,  and  also  the 
strange  form  of  the  declaration  which  he  was  reputed 
to  have  dictated  at  midnight,  just  as  he  was  restored 
to  life.  "  A  man  who  comes  from  the  gates  of  the 
tomb,  still  covered  with  the  shadows  of  death,  de- 
mands vengeance  on  those  who,  by  their  perfidy," 
etc.  Many  were  agreed  in  thinking  that  that  was 
not  the  style  of  a  suicide,  with  the  death-rattle  still  in 
his  throat,  but  that  Real's  agents  must  have  lent  their 
eloquence  to  this  half-dead  creature. 

However  it  may  have  been,  the  government  now 
knew  enough  to  order  the  most  rigorous  measures  to 
be  taken  against  the  "  last  royalists."  Bouvet  had, 
like  Picot,  only  been  able  to  mention  the  house  at 
Chaillot,  and  the  lodging  in  the  Rue  Careme-Prenant, 
and  Georges'  retreat  was  still  undiscovered.  The 
revelations  that  fear  or  torture  had  drawn  from  his 
associates  only  served  to  make  the  figure  of  this  ex- 
traordinary man  loom  greater,  by  showing  the  power 
of  his  ascendancy  over  his  companions,  and  the  mys- 


CAPTURE  OF  GEORGES  CADOUDAL    29 

tery  that  surrounded  all  his  actions.  A  legend  grew 
around  his  name,  and  the  communications  published 
by  Le  Moniteur^  contributed  not  a  little  towards 
making  him  a  sort  of  fantastic  personage,  whom  one 
expected  to  see  arise  suddenly,  and  by  one  grand  the- 
atrical stroke  put  an  end  to  the  Revolution. 

Paris  lived  in  a  fever  of  excitement  during  the  first 
days  of  March,  1804,  anxiously  following  this  duel  to 
the  death,  between  the  First  Consul  and  this  phantom- 
man  who,  shut  up  in  the  town  and  constantly  seen 
about,  still  remained  uncaught.  The  barriers  were 
closed  as  in  the  darkest  days  of  the  Terror.  Patrols, 
detectives  and  gendarmes  held  all  the  streets ;  the  sol- 
diers of  the  garrison  had  departed,  with  loaded  arms, 
to  the  boulevards  outside  the  walls.  White  placards 
announced  that  "  Those  who  concealed  the  brigands 
would  be  classed  with  the  brigands  themselves  "  ;  the 
penalty  of  death  attached  to  any  one  who  should 
shelter  one  of  them,  even  for  twenty-four  hours, 
without  denouncing  him  to  the  police.  The  descrip- 
tion of  Georges  and  his  accomplices  was  inserted  in 
all  the  papers,  distributed  in  leaflets,  and  posted  on 
the  walls.  Their  last  domicile  was  mentioned,  as 
well  as  anything  that  could  help  to  identify  them. 
The  clerks  at  the  barriers  were  ordered  to  search 
barrels,  washerwomen's  carts,  baskets,  and,  as  the 
cemeteries  were  outside  the  walls,  to  look  carefully 
into  all  the  hearses  that  carried  the  dead  to  them. 

On  leaving  Chaillot,  Georges  had  returned  to  Ver- 
det,  in  the  Rue  du  Puits-de-l'Hermite.      As  he  did 


30    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

not  go  out  and  his  friends  dared  not  come  to  see  him, 
Mme.  Verdet  had  instituted  herself  commissioner  for 
the  conspiracy. 

One  evening  she  did  not  return.  Armed  with  a 
letter  for  Bouvet  de  Lozier,  she  had  arrived  at  the 
Rue  Saint-Sauveur  just  as  they  w^ere  taking  him  to 
the  Temple,  and  had  been  arrested  with  him.  Thus 
the  circle  was  narrowing  around  Georges.  He  was 
obliged  to  leave  the  Rue  du  Puits-de-PHermite  in 
haste,  for  fear  that  torture  would  wring  the  secret  of 
his  asylum  from  Mme.  Verdet.  But  where  could  he 
go  ?  The  house  at  Chaillot,  the  Hotel  of  the  Cloche 
d'Or,  the  Rue  Careme-Prenant  were  now  known  to 
the  police.  Charles  d'Hozier,  on  being  consulted, 
showed  him  a  retreat  that  he  had  kept  for  himself, 
which  had  been  arranged  for  him  by  Mile.  Hisay,  a 
poor  deformed  girl,  who  served  the  conspirators  with 
tireless  zeal,  taking  all  sorts  of  disguises  and  vying  in 
address  and  activity  with  Real's  men.  She  had  rented 
from  a  fruitseller  named  Lemoine,  a  little  shop  with  a 
room  above  it,  intending  "  to  use  it  for  some  of  her 
acquaintances." 

It  was  there  that  she  conducted  Georges  on  the 
night  of  February  17.  The  next  day  two  of  his 
officers,  Burban  and  Joyaut,  joined  him  there,  and  all 
three  lived  at  the  woman  Lemoine's  for  twenty  days. 
They  occupied  the  room  above,  leaving  the  shop  un- 
tenanted save  by  Mile.  Hisay  and  a  little  girl  of  Le- 
moine's,  who  kept  watch  there.  At  night  both  of 
them  went  up  to  the  room,  and  slept  there,  separated 
by  a  curtain  from  the  beds  occupied  by  Georges  and 


CAPTURE  OF  GEORGES  CADOUDAL    31 

his  accomplices.  The  fruiterer  and  her  daughter 
were  entirely  ignorant  of  the  standing  of  their  guests, 
Mile.  Hisay  having  introduced  them  as  three  shop- 
keepers who  were  unfortunately  obliged  to  hide  from 
their  creditors. 

This  incognito  occasioned  some  rather  amusing  in- 
cidents. One  day  Mme.  Lemoine,  on  returning  from 
market  where  the  neighbours  had  been  discussing  the 
plot  that  was  agitating  all  Paris,  said  to  her  tenants, 
"  Goodness  me  !  You  don't  know  about  it  ?  Why, 
they  say  that  that  miserable  Georges  would  like  to 
destroy  us  all ;  if  I  knew  where  he  was,  Td  soon  have 
him  caught." 

Another  time  the  little  girl  brought  news  that 
Georges  had  left  Paris  disguised  as  an  aide-de-camp 
of  the  First  Consul.  Some  days  later,  when  Georges 
asked  her  what  the  latest  news  was,  she  answered, 
"  They  say  the  rascal  has  escaped  in  a  coffin." 

"I  should  like  to  go  out  the  same  way,"  hinted 
Burban. 

However,  the  police  had  lost  track  of  the  con- 
spirator. It  was  generally  supposed  that  he  had 
passed  the  fortifications,  when  on  the  8th  of  March, 
Petit,  who  had  known  Leridant,  one  of  the  Chouans, 
for  a  long  time,  saw  him  talking  w.ith  a  woman  on 
the  Boulevard  Saint-Antoine.  He  followed  him,  and 
a  little  further  off,  saw  him  go  up  to  a  man  who 
struck  him  as  bearing  a  great  likeness  to  Joyaut, 
whose  description  had  been  posted  on  all  the  walls. 

It  was  indeed  Joyaut,  who  had  left  Mme.  Le- 
moine's  for  the  purpose  of  looking  for  a  lodging  for 


32     THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

Georges  where  he  would  be  less  at  the  mercy  of 
chance  than  in  the  fruitseller's  attic.  Leridant  told 
him  that  the  house  of  a  perfumer  named  Caron,  in 
the  Rue  Four-Saint-Germain,  was  the  safest  retreat 
in  Paris.  For  some  years  Caron,  a  militant  royalist, 
had  sheltered  distressed  Chouans,  in  the  face  of  the 
police.  He  had  hidden  Hyde  de  Neuville  for  several 
weeks;  his  house  was  well  provided  with  secret 
places,  and  for  extreme  cases  he  had  made  a  place  in 
his  sign-post  overhanging  the  street,  where  a  man 
could  lie  perdu  at  ease,  while  the  house  was  being 
searched.  Leridant  had  obtained  Caron's  consent, 
and  it  was  agreed  that  Leridant  should  come  in  a  cab 
at  seven  o'clock  the  next  evening  to  take  Georges 
from  Sainte-Genevieve  to  the  Rue  du  Four. 

When  he  had  seen  the  termination  of  the  interview 
of  which  his  detective's  instinct  showed  him  the  im- 
portance. Petit,  who  had  remained  at  a  distance,  fol- 
lowed Joyaut,  and  did  not  lose  sight  of  him  till  he  ar- 
rived at  the  Place  Maubert.  Suspecting  that  Georges 
was  in  the  neighbourhood  he  posted  policemen  at  the 
Place  du  Pantheon,  and  at  the  narrow  streets  leading 
to  it;  then  he  returned  to  watch  Leridant,  who 
lodged  with  a  young  man  called  Goujon,  in  the  cul- 
de-sac  of  the  Corderie,  behind  the  old  Jacobins  Club. 
The  next  day,  March  9th,  Petit  learned  through  his 
spies  that  Goujon  had  hired  out  a  cab.  No.  53,  for 
the  entire  day.  He  hastened  to  the  Prefecture  and 
informed  his  colleague,  Destavigny,  who,  with  a 
party  of  inspectors  took  up  his  position  on  the  Place 
Maubert.     If,  as  Petit  supposed,  Georges  was  hidden 


CAPTURE  OF  GEORGES  CADOUDAL    33 

near  there,  if  the  cab  was  intended  for  him,  it  would 
be  obliged  to  cross  the  place  where  the  principal 
streets  of  the  quarter  converged.  The  order  was 
given  to  let  it  pass  if  it  contained  only  one  person, 
but  to  follow  it  with  most  extreme  care. 

The  night  had  arrived,  and  nothing  had  happened  to 
confirm  the  hypotheses  of  Petit,  when,  a  little  before 
seven  o'clock,  a  cab  appeared  on  the  Place,  coming 
from  the  Rue  Galande.  Only  one  man  was  on  it, 
holding  the  reins.  The  spies  in  different  costumes, 
who  hung  about  the  fountain,  recognised  him  as  Leri- 
dant.  The  cab  was  numbered  53,  and  had  only  the 
lantern  at  the  left  alight.  It  went  slowly  up  the  steep 
Rue  de  la  Montagne-Sainte-Genevieve ;  the  police, 
hugging  the  walls,  followed  it  far  off.  Petit,  the  In- 
spector Caniolle,  and  the  officer  of  the  peace,  Des- 
tavigny,  kept  nearer  to  it,  expecting  to  see  it  stop 
before  one  of  the  houses  in  the  street,  when  they 
would  only  have  to  take  Georges  on  the  threshold. 
But  to  their  great  disappointment  the  cab  turned  to 
the  right,  into  the  narrow  Rue  des  Amandiers,  and 
stopped  at  a  porte  cochere  near  the  old  College  des 
Grassins.  As  the  lantern  shed  a  very  brilliant  light, 
the  three  detectives  concealed  themselves  in  the  lanes 
near  by.  They  saw  Leridant  descend  from  the  cab. 
He  went  through  a  door,  came  out,  went  in  again  and 
stayed  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour.  Then  he  turned  his 
horse  round,  and  got  up  on  the  seat  again. 

The  cab  turned  again  into  the  Rue  de  la  Montague- 
Sainte-Genevieve,  and  went  slowly  down  it ;  it  went 
across  the  Place  Saint-Etienne-du-Mont,  following  the 


34    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

houses.  Caniolle  walked  behind  it,  Petit  and  Desta- 
vigny  followed  at  a  distance.  Just  as  the  carriage 
arrived  at  the  corner  of  the  Rue  des  Sept-Voies,  four 
individuals  came  out  from  the  shadow.  One  of  them 
seized  the  apron,  and  helping  himself  up  by  the  step, 
flung  himself  into  the  cab,  which  had  not  stopped,  and 
went  off  at  full  speed.     . 

The  police  had  recognised  Georges,  disguised  as  a 
market-porter.  Caniolle,  who  was  nearest,  rushed 
forward ;  the  three  men  who  had  remained  on  the 
spot,  and  who  were  no  other  than  Joyaut,  Burban  and 
Raoul  Gaillard,  tried  to  stop  him.  Caniolle  threw 
them  off,  and  chased  the  cab  which  had  disappeared  in 
the  Rue  Saint-Etienne-dcs-Gres.  He  caught  up  to 
it,  just  as  it  was  entering  the  Passage  des  Jacobins. 
Seizing  the  springs,  he  was  carried  along  with  it. 
The  two  officers  of  the  peace,  less  agile,  followed 
crying,  "  Stop  !     Stop  !  " 

Georges,  seated  on  the  right  of  Leridant,  who  held 
the  reins,  had  turned  to  the  back  of  the  carriage  and 
tried  to  follow  the  fortunes  of  the  pursuit  through  the 
glass.  The  moment  that  he  had  jumped  into  the  car- 
riage, he  had  seen  the  detectives,  and  said  to  Leridant : 
"  Whip  him,  whip  him  hard  !  " 

"  To  go  where  ?  "  asked  the  other. 

"  I  do  not  know,  but  we  must  fly  !  " 

And  the  horse,  tingling  with  blows,  galloped  off. 

At  the  end  of  the  Passage  des  Jacobins,  which  at  a 
sharp  angle  ended  in  the  Rue  de  la  Harpe,  Leridant 
was  obliged  to  slow  up  in  order  to  turn  on  the  Place 
Saint-Michel,  and  not  miss  the  entrance  to  the  Rue 


CAPTURE  OF  GEORGES  CADOUDAL    35 

des  Fosses-Monsieur-le-Prince.  He  turned  towards 
the  Rue  du  Four,  hoping,  thanks  to  the  steepness  of 
the  Rue  des  Fosses,  to  distance  the  detectives  and 
arrive  at  Caron's  before  they  caught  up  with  the  car- 
riage. 

From  where  he  was  Georges  could  not,  through  the 
little  window,  see  Caniolle  crouched  behind  the  hood. 
But  he  saw  others  running  with  all  their  might. 
Destavigny  and  Petit  had  indeed  continued  the  pur- 
suit, and  their  cries  brought  out  all  the  spies  posted  in 
the  quarter.  Just  as  Leridant  wildly  dashed  into  the 
Rue  des  Fosses,  a  whole  pack  of  policemen  rushed 
upon  him. 

At  the  approach  of  this  whirlwind  the  frightened 
passers-by  shrank  into  the  shelter  of  the  doorways. 
Their  minds  were  so  haunted  by  one  idea  that  at  the 
sight  of  this  cab  flying  past  in  the  dark  with  the  noise 
of  whips,  shouts,  oaths,  and  the  resonant  clang  of  the 
horse's  hoofs  on  the  pavement,  a  single  cry  broke 
forth,  "  Georges  !  Georges  !  it  is  Georges  !  "  Anx- 
ious faces  appeared  at  the  windows,  and  from  every 
door  people  came  out,  who  began  to  run  without 
knowing  it,  drawn  along  as  by  a  waterspout.  Did 
Georges  see  in  this  a  last  hope  of  safety  ?  Did  he 
believe  he  could  escape  in  the  crowd  ?  However  that 
may  be,  at  the  top  of  the  Rue  Voltaire  he  jumped  out 
into  the  street.  Caniolle,  at  the  same  moment,  left 
the  back  of  the  cab — which  Petit,  and  another  police- 
man called  Buffet,  had  at  last  succeeded  in  outrun- 
ning,— threw  himself  on  the  reins,  and  allowing  him- 
self to  be  dragged  along,  mastered  the  horse,  which 


36     THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

stopped,  exhausted.  Buffet  took  one  step  towards 
Georges,  who  stretched  him  dead  with  a  pistol  shot ; 
with  a  second  ball  the  Chouan  rid  himself,  for  a  mo- 
ment at  least,  of  Caniolle.  He  still  thought,  proba- 
bly, that  he  could  hide  himself  in  the  crowd ;  and 
perhaps  he  would  have  succeeded,  for  Destavigny, 
who  had  run  up,  "  saw  him  before  him,  standing  with 
all  the  tranquillity  of  a  man  who  has  nothing  to  fear, 
and  three  or  four  people  near  him  appeared  not  to  be 
thinking  more  about  Georges  than  anything  else." 
He  was  going  to  turn  the  corner  of  the  Rue  de 
rObservance  when  Caniolle,  who  was  only  wounded, 
struck  him  with  his  club.  In  an  instant  Georges  was 
surrounded,  thrown  down,  searched  and  bound.  The 
next  morning  more  than  forty  individuals,  among 
them  several  women,  made  themselves  known  to  the 
judge  as  being  each  "the  principal  author"  of  the 
arrest  of  the  "  brigand  "  chief. 

By  way  of  the  Carrefour  dc  la  Comedie,  the  Rues 
des  Fosses  Saint-Germain  and  Dauphine,  Georges, 
tied  with  cords,  was  taken  to  the  Prefecture.  A 
growing  mob  escorted  him,  more  out  of  curiosity 
than  anger,  and  one  can  imagine  the  excitement  at 
police  headquarters  when  they  heard  far  off  on  the 
Quai  des  Orfevres,  the  increasing  tumult  announcing 
the  event,  and  when  suddenly,  from  the  corps  de 
garde  in  the  salons  of  the  Prefect  Dubois  the  news 
came,  "  Georges  is  taken  !  " 

A  minute  later  the  vanquished  outlaw  was  pushed 
into  the  office  of  Dubois,  who  was  still  at  dinner.  In 
spite  of  his  bonds  he  still  showed  so  much  pride  and 


CAPTURE  OF  GEORGES  CADOUDAL    37 

coolness  that  the  all-powerful  functionary  was  almost 
afraid  of  him.  Desmaret,  who  was  present,  could 
not  himself  escape  this  feeling. 

"  Georges,  whom  I  saw  for  the  first  time,"  he 
said,  "  had  always  been  to  me  a  sort  of  Old  Man  of 
the  Mountain,  sending  his  assassins  far  and  near, 
against  the  powers.  I  found,  on  the  contrary,  an 
open  face,  bright  eyes,  fresh  complexion,  and  a  look 
firm  but  gentle,  as  was  also  his  voice.  Although 
stout,  his  movements  and  manner  were  easy ;  his 
head  quite  round,  with  short  curly  hair,  no  whiskers, 
and  nothing  to  indicate  the  chief  of  a  mortal  con- 
spiracy, who  had  long  dominated  the  landss  of  Brittany. 
I  was  present  when  Comte  Dubois,  the  prefect  of 
police,  questioned  him.  His  ease  amidst  all  the  hub- 
bub, his  answers,  firm,  frank,  cautious  and  couched 
in  well-chosen  language,  contrasted  greatly  with  my 
ideas  about  him. 

"  Indeed  his  first  replies  showed  a  disconcerting 
calm.  One  may  be  quoted.  When  Dubois,  not 
knowing  where  to  begin,  rather  foolishly  reproached 
him  with  the  death  of  Buffet,  '  the  father  of  a  family,' 
Georges  smilingly  gave  him  this  advice  : — '  Next 
time,  then,  have  me  arrested  by  bachelors.'  " 

His  courageous  pride  did  not  fail  him  either  in  the 
interrogations  he  had  to  submit  to,  or  before  the  court 
of  justice.  His  replies  to  the  President  are  superb  in 
disdain  and  abnegation.  He  assumed  all  responsibility 
for  the  plot,  and  denied  knowledge  of  any  of  his 
friends.  He  carried  his  generosity  so  far  as  to  behave 
with   courteous   dignity  even    to  those  who  had  be- 


38     THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

trayed  him ;  he  even  tried  to  excuse  the  indifference 
of  the  princes  whose  selfish  inertia  had  been  his 
ruin.  He  remained  great  until  he  reached  the  scaf- 
fold ;  eleven  faithful  Chouans  died  with  him,  among 
the  number  being  Louis  Picot,  Joyaut  and  Burban, 
whose  names  have  appeared  in  this  story. 

Thus  ended  the  conspiracy.  Bonaparte  came  out 
of  it  emperor.  Fouche,  minister  of  police,  and  his 
assistants  were  not  going  to  be  useless,  for  if  in  the 
eyes  of  the  public,  Georges'  death  seemed  the  climax, 
it  was  in  reality  but  one  incident  in  a  desperate 
struggle.  The  depths  sounded  by  the  investigation 
had  revealed  the  existence  of  an  incurable  evil.  The 
whole  west  of  France  was  cankered  with  Chouan- 
nerie.  From  Rouen  to  Nantes,  from  Cherbourg  to 
Poitiers,  thousands  of  peasants,  bourgeois  and  country 
gentlemen  remained  faithful  to  the  old  order,  and  if 
they  were  not  all  willing  to  take  up  arms  in  its  cause, 
they  could  at  least  do  much  to  upset  the  equilibrium 
of  the  new  government.  And  could  not  another  try 
to  do  what  Georges  Cadoudal  had  attempted  ?  If 
some  one  with  more  influence  over  the  princes  than 
he  possessed  should  persuade  one  of  them  to  cross  the 
Channel,  what  would  the  glory  of  the  parvenu  count 
for,  balanced  against  the  ancient  prestige  of  the  name 
of  Bourbon,  magnified  and  as  it  were  sanctified  by  the 
tragedies  of  the  Revolution  ?  This  fear  haunted 
Bonaparte  ;  the  knowledge  that  in  France  these  Bour- 
bons, exiled,  without  soldiers  or  money,  were  still 
more  the  masters  then  he,  exasperated  him.  He  felt 
that  he    was    in    their  home,  and  their  nonchalance, 


CAPTURE  OF  GEORGES  CADOUDAL    39 

contrasted  with  his  incessant  agitation,  indicated  both 
insolence  and  disdain. 

The  police,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  had  unearthed  only 
a  few  of  the  conspirators.  Many  who,  like  Raoul 
Gaillard,  had  played  an  important  part  in  the  plot, 
had  succeeded  in  escaping  all  pursuit ;  they  were  evi- 
dently the  cleverest,  therefore  the  most  dangerous, 
and  among  them  might  be  found  a  man  ambitious  of 
succeeding  Cadoudal.  The  capture  to  which  Fouche 
and  Real  attached  the  most  importance  was  that 
of  d'Ache,  whose  presence  at  Biville  and  Saint-Leu 
had  been  proved.  For  three  months,  in  Paris  even, 
wherever  the  police  had  worked,  they  had  struck  the 
trail  of  this  same  d'Ache,  who  appeared  to  have  pre- 
sided over  the  whole  organisation  of  the  plot.  Thus, 
he  had  been  seen  at  Verdet's  in  the  Rue  du  Puits-de- 
I'Hermite,  while  Georges  was  there;  he  had  met 
Raoul  Gaillard  several  times ;  in  making  an  inventory 
of  the  papers  of  a  young  lady  called  Margeot,  with 
whom  Pichegru  had  dined,  two  rather  enigmatical 
notes  had  been  found,  in  which  d' Ache's  name  ap- 
peared. 

Mme.  d'Ache  and  her  eldest  daughter  had  been  since 
February  in  the  Madelonnettes  prison;  the  second 
girl,  Alexandrine,  had  been  left  at  liberty  in  the  hope 
that  in  Paris,  where  she  was  a  stranger,  she  would  be 
guilty  of  some  imprudence  that  would  deliver  her 
father  to  the  police.  She  had  taken  lodgings  in  the 
Rue  Travcrsiere-Saint-Honore,  at  the  Hotel  des 
Treize-Cantons,  and  Real  had  immediately  set  two 
spies  upon  her,  but  their  reports  were  monotonously 


40    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

melancholy.  "Very  well  behaved,  very  quiet — she 
lives,  and  is  daily  with  the  master  and  mistress  of  the 
hotel,  people  of  mature  age.  She  sees  no  one,  and  is 
spoken  of  in  the  highest  terms."  From  this  side, 
also,  all  hope  of  catching  d'Ache  had  to  be  abandoned. 

Another  way  was  thought  of,  and  on  March  22d 
the  order  to  open  all  the  gates  was  given.  Fouche 
foresaw  that  in  their  anxiety  to  leave  Paris  all  of 
Georges'  accomplices  who  had  not  been  caught  would 
hasten  to  return  to  Normandy,  and  thanks  to  the 
watchfulness  exercised,  a  clean  sweep  might  be  made 
of  them.  The  cleverly  conceived  idea  had  some 
result.  On  the  25th  a  peasant  called  Jacques  Pluquet 
of  Meriel,  near  TIsle-Adam,  when  working  in  his 
field  on  the  border  of  the  wood  of  La  Muette,  saw 
four  men  in  hats  pulled  down  over  cotton  caps,  and 
with  strong  knotted  clubs,  coming  towards  him. 
They  asked  him  if  they  could  cross  the  Oise  at 
Meriel.  Pluquet  replied  that  it  was  easy  to  do  so, 
"but  there  were  gendarmes  to  examine  all  who 
passed."  At  that  they  hesitated.  They  described 
themselves  as  conscript  deserters  coming  from  Valen- 
ciennes who  wished  to  get  back  to  their  homes. 
Pluquet's  account  is  so  picturesque  as  to  be  worth 
quoting : 

"  I  asked  them  where  they  belonged ;  they  replied 
in  Alen^on.  I  remarked  that  they  would  have 
trouble  in  getting  there  without  being  arrested.  One 
of  them  said:  'That  is  true,  for  after  what  had  just 
happened  in  Paris,  everywhere  is  guarded.'  Then, 
allowing  the  three  others  to  go  on  ahead,  he  said  to 


CAPTURE  OF  GEORGES  CADOUDAL    41 

me,  '  But  if  they  arrest  us,  what  will  they  do  to  us  ?  * 
I  replied  :  '  They  will  take  you  back  to  your  corps, 
from  brigade  to  brigade.'  On  that  he  said,  'If  they 
catch  us,  they  will  make  us  do  ten  thousand  leagues/ 
And  he  left  me  to  regain  his  comrades,  the  youngest 
of  whom  might  have  been  twenty-two  years  old  and 
seemed  very  sad  and  tired." 

The  next  morning  some  people  at  Auvers  found  a 
little  log  cabin  in  a  wood  in  which  the  four  men  had 
spent  the  night.  They  were  seen  on  the  following 
days,  wandering  in  the  forest  of  TIsle-Adam.  At 
last,  on  April  ist  they  went  to  the  ferryman  of  Mer- 
iel,  Eloi  Cousin,  who  was  sheltering  two  gendarmes. 
While  they  were  begging  the  ferryman  to  take  them 
in  his  boat,  the  gendarmes  appeared,  and  the  men 
fled.  A  pistol  shot  struck  one  of  them,  and  a  second, 
who  stopped  to  assist  his  comrade,  was  also  taken. 
The  two  others  escaped  to  the  woods. 

The  wounded  man  was  put  in  a  boat  and  taken  to 
the  hospital  at  Pontoise,  where  he  died  the  next  day. 
Real,  who  was  immediately  informed  of  it,  immedi- 
ately sent  Querelle,  whom  he  was  carefully  keeping 
in  prison  to  use  in  case  of  need,  and  he  at  once  recog- 
nised the  corpse  to  be  that  of  Raoul  Gaillard,  called 
Houvel,  or  Saint-Vincent,  the  friend  of  d'Ache,  the 
principal  advance-agent  of  Georges.  The  other 
prisoner  was  his  brother  Armand,  who  was  immedi- 
ately taken  to  Paris  and  thrown  into  the  Temple. 

The  commune  of  Meriel  had  deserved  well  of  the 
country,  and  the  First  Consul  showed  his  satisfaction 
in   a  dazzling    manner.      He  expressed   a  desire   to 


42     THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

make  the  acquaintance  of  this  population  so  devoted 
to  his  person,  and  on  the  8th  of  April,  the  sous-prefet 
of  Pontoise  presented  himself  at  the  Tuileries  at  the 
head  of  all  the  men  of  the  village.  Bonaparte  con- 
gratulated them  personally,  and  as  a  more  substantial 
proof  of  his  gratitude,  distributed  among  them  a  sum 
of  11,000  francs,  found  in  Raoul  Gaillard's  belt. 

This  was  certainly  a  glorious  event  for  the  peasants 
of  Meriel,  but  it  had  an  unexpected  result.  When 
they  returned  the  next  day  they  learned  that  a 
stranger,  "  well  dressed,  well  armed  and  mounted  on 
a  fine  horse,'*  profiting  by  their  absence,  had  gone  to 
the  village,  and,  "  after  many  questions  addressed  to 
the  women  and  children,  had  gone  to  the  place  where 
Raoul  Gaillard  was  wounded,  trying  to  find  out  if 
they  had  not  found  a  case,  to  which  he  seemed  to  at- 
tach great  importance."  This  incident  reminded 
them  that,  in  the  boat  that  took  him  to  Pontoise, 
Raoul  Gaillard,  then  dying,  had  anxiously  asked  if  a 
razor-case  had  been  found  among  his  things.  On  re- 
ceiving a  negative  reply,  "  he  had  appeared  to  be  very 
much  put  out,  and  was  heard  to  murmur  that  the 
fortune  of  the  man  who  would  discover  this  case  was 
made." 

The  visits  of  this  stranger — since  seen,  "in  the 
country,  on  the  heights  and  near  the  woods," — his 
threats  of  vengeance,  and  this  mysterious  case,  pro- 
vided matter  for  a  report  that  perplexed  Real.  Was 
this  not  d*Ache  ?  A  great  hunt  was  organised  in  the 
forest  of  Carnelle,  but  it  brought  no  result.  Four 
days  later  they  explored  the  forest  of  Montmorency, 


CAPTURE  OF  GEORGES  CADOUDAL    43 

where  some  signs  of  the  "  brigands' "  occupation 
were  seen,  but  of  d*Ache  no  trace  at  all,  and  in  spite 
of  the  fierceness  that  Real's  men,  incited  by  the 
promise  of  large  rewards,  brought  to  this  chase  of  the 
Chouans,  after  weeks  and  months  of  research,  of  en- 
quiries, tricks,  false  trails  followed,  and  traps  use- 
lessly laid,  it  had  to  be  admitted  that  the  police  had 
lost  the  scent,  and  that  Georges'  clever  accomplice 
had  long  since  disappeared. 


CHAPTER  III 

THE  COMBRAYS 

At  the  period  of  our  story  there  existed  in  the  de- 
partment of  the  Eure,  on  the  left  bank  of  the  Seine, 
beyond  Gaillon,  a  large  old  manor-house,  backed  by 
the  hill  that  extended  as  far  as  Andelys ;  it  was  called 
the  Chateau  de  Tournebut.  Although  its  peaked 
roofs  could  be  seen  from  the  river  above  a  thicket  of 
low  trees,  Tournebut  was  ofF  the  main  route  of  travel, 
whether  by  land  or  water,  from  Rouen  to  Paris. 
Some  fairly  large  woods  separated  it  from  the  high- 
road which  runs  from  Gaillon  to  Saint-Cyr-de-Vaud- 
reuil,  while  the  barges  usually  touched  at  the  hamlet 
of  Roule,  where  hacks  were  hired  to  take  passengers 
and  goods  to  the  ferry  of  Muids,  thereby  saving  them 
the  long  detour  made  by  the  Seine.  Tournebut  was 
thus  isolated  between  these  two  much-travelled  roads. 
Its  principal  fa9ade,  facing  east,  towards  the  river, 
consisted  of  two  heavy  turrets,  one  against  the  other, 
built  of  brick  and  stone  in  the  style  of  Louis  XIII, 
with  great  slate  roofs  and  high  dormer  windows. 
After  these  came  a  lower  and  more  modern  building, 
ending  with  the  chapel.  In  front  of  the  chateau 
was  an  old  square  bastion  forming  a  terrace,  whose 
mossy  walls  were  bathed  by  the  waters  of  a  large 
stagnant  marsh.     The  west  front  which  was  plainer, 

44 


THE  COMBRAYS  45 

was  separated  by  only  a  few  feet  of  level  ground  from 
the  abrupt,  wooded  hill  by  which  Tournebut  was 
sheltered.  A  wall  with  several  doors  opening  on  the 
woods  enclosed  the  chateau,  the  farm  and  the  lower 
part  of  the  park,  and  a  wide  morass,  stretching  from 
the  foot  of  the  terrace  to  the  Seine,  rendered  access 
impossible  from  that  side. 

By  the  marriage  of  Genevieve  de  Bois-1'Eveque, 
Lady  of  Tournebut,  this  mansion  had  passed  to  the 
family  of  Marillac,  early  in  the  seventeenth  century. 
The  Marshal  Louis  de  Marillac — uncle  of  Mme. 
Legras,  collaborator  of  St.  Vincent  de  Paul — had 
owned  it  from  1613  to  163 1,  and  tradition  asserted 
that  during  his  struggle  against  Cardinal  Richelieu  he 
had  established  there  a  plant  for  counterfeiting  money. 
To  him  was  due  the  construction  of  the  brick  wing 
vv^hich  remained  unfinished,  his  condemnation  to  death 
for  peculation  having  put  a  stop  to  the  embellishments 
he  had  intended  to  make. 

There  are  very  few  chateaux  left  in  France  like 
this  romantic  manor  of  a  dead  and  gone  past,  whose 
stones  have  endured  all  the  crises  of  our  history,  and 
to  which  each  century  has  added  a  tower,  or  a  legend. 
Tournebut,  at  the  beginning  of  the  nineteenth  cen- 
tury, was  a  perfect  type  of  these  old  dwellings,  where 
there  were  so  many  great  halls  and  so  few  living 
rooms,  and  whose  high  slate  roofs  covered  intricacies 
of  framework  forming  lofts  vast  as  cathedrals.  It 
was  said  that  its  thick  walls  were  pierced  by  secret 
passages  and  contained  hiding-places  that  Louis  de 
Marillac  had  formerly  used. 


46    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

In  1804  Tournebut  was  inhabited  by  the  Marquise 
de  Combray,  born  Genevieve  de  Brunelles,  daughter 
of  a  President  of  the  Cour  des  Comptes  of  Nor- 
mandy. Her  husband,  Jean-Louis-Armand-Em- 
manuel  Helie  de  Combray,  had  died  in  1784, 
leaving  her  with  two  sons  and  two  daughters,  and  a 
great  deal  of  property  in  the  environs  of  Falaise,  in 
the  parishes  of  Donnay,  Combray,  Bonnoeil  and 
other  places.  Madame  de  Combray  had  inherited 
Tournebut  from  her  mother,  Madeleine  Hubert,  her- 
self a  daughter  of  a  councillor  in  the  Paraliament  of 
Normandy.  Besides  the  chateau  and  the  farm,  which 
were  surrounded  by  a  park  well-wooded  with  old 
trees,  the  domain  included  the  woods  that  covered  the 
hillside,  at  the  extremity  of  which  was  an  old  tower, 
formerly  a  wind-mill,  built  over  deep  quarries,  and 
called  the  "  Tower  of  the  Burned  Mill,"  or  "  The 
Hermitage."  It  figures  in  the  ancient  plans  of  the 
country  under  the  latter  name,  which  it  owes  to  the 
memory  of  an  old  hermit  who  lived  in  the  quarries 
for  many  years  and  died  there  towards  the  close  of 
the  reign  of  Louis  XV,  leaving  a  great  local  reputa- 
tion for  holiness. 

Mme.  de  Combray  was  of  a  "haughty  and  im- 
perious nature ;  her  soul  was  strong  and  full  of 
energy ;  she  knew  how  to  brave  danger  and  public 
opinion ;  the  boldest  projects  did  not  frighten  her,  and 
her  ambition  was  unbounded."  Such  is  the  picture 
that  one  of  her  most  irreconcilable  enemies  has  drawn 
of  her,  and  we  shall  see  that  the  principal  traits  were 
faithfully  described.     But  to  complete  the  resemblance 


THE  COiMBRAYS  47 

one  must  first  of  all  plead  an  extenuating  circum- 
stance :  Madame  de  Combray  was  a  fanatical  royalist. 
Even  that,  however,  would  not  make  her  story  intel- 
ligible, if  one  did  not  make  allowance  for  the  Calvary 
that  the  faithful  royalists  travelled  through  so  many 
years,  each  station  of  which  was  marked  by  disillu- 
sions and  failures.  Since  the  war  on  the  nobles  had 
begun  in  1789,  all  their  efforts  at  resistance,  disdainful 
at  first,  stubborn  later  on,  blundering  always,  had  been 
pitifully  abortive.  Their  rebuffs  could  no  longer  be 
counted,  and  there  was  some  justification  in  that  for 
the  scornful  hatred  on  the  part  of  the  new  order  to- 
wards a  caste  which  for  so  many  centuries  had  be- 
lieved themselves  to  be  possessed  of  all  the  talents. 
Many  of  them,  it  is  true,  had  resigned  themselves  to 
defeat,  but  the  Intransigeants  continued  to  struggle 
obstinately ;  and  to  say  truth,  this  tenacious  attach- 
ment to  the  ghost  of  monarchy  was  not  without 
grandeur. 

From  the  very  beginning  of  the  Revolution  the 
Marquise  de  Combray  had  numbered  herself  among 
the  unchangeable  royalists.  Her  husband,  a  timorous 
and  quiet  man,  who  employed  in  reading  the  hours 
that  he  did  not  consecrate  to  sleep,  had  long  since 
abandoned  to  her  the  direction  of  the  household  and 
the  management  of  his  fortune.  Widowhood  had 
but  strengthened  the  authority  of  the  Marquise,  who 
reigned  over  a  little  world  of  small  farmers,  peasants 
and  servants,  more  timid,  perhaps,  than  devoted. 

She  exacted  complete  obedience  from  her  children. 
The  eldest  son,  called  the  Chevalier  de  Bonnoeil,  after 


48     THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

a  property  near  the  Chateau  of  Donnay,  in  the 
environs  of  Falaise,  supported  the  maternal  yoke 
patiently ;  he  was  an  officer  in  the  Royal  Dragoons 
at  the  time  of  the  Revolution.  His  younger  brother, 
Timoleon  de  Combray,  vs^as  of  a  less  docile  nature. 
On  leaving  the  military  school,  as  his  father  was  just 
dead  he  solicited  from  M.  de  Vergennes  a  mission  in 
an  uncivilised  country  and  set  sail  for  Morocco. 
Timoleon  was  a  liberal-minded  man,  of  high  intel- 
lectual culture,  and  a  philosophical  scepticism  that 
fitted  ill  with  the  Marquise's  authoritative  temper; 
although  a  devoted  and  respectful  man,  it  was  to  get 
away  from  his  mother's  tutelage  that  he  expatriated 
himself.  "  Our  diversity  of  opinion,"  he  said  later 
on,  "has  kept  me  from  spending  two  consecutive 
months  with  her  in  seventeen  years."  From  Morocco 
he  went  to  Algiers  and  thence  to  Tunis  and  Egypt. 
He  was  about  to  penetrate  to  Tartary  when  he  heard 
of  the  outbreak  of  the  Revolution  ;  and  immediately 
started  for  France  where  he  arrived  at  the  beginning 
of  1 79 1. 

Of  Mme.  de  Combray's  two  daughters  the  eldest 
had  married,  in  1787,  at  the  age  of  twenty-two, 
Jacques-Philippe-Henri  d'Houel;  the  youngest  Caro- 
line-Madeleine-Louise-Genevieve,  was  born  in  1773, 
and. consequently  was  only  eleven  years  old  when  her 
father  died.  This  child  is  the  heroine  of  the  drama 
we  are  about  to  relate. 

In  August,  1 79 1,  Mme.  de  Combray  inscribed  her- 
self and  her  two  sons  on  the  list  of  the  hostages  of 
Louis  XVI  which  the  journalist  Durosay  had  con- 


THE  COMBRAYS  49 

ceived.  It  was  a  courageous  act,  for  it  was  easy  to 
foresee  that  the  six  hundred  and  eleven  names  on 
"this  golden  book  of  fidelity,"  would  soon  all  be  sus- 
pected. While  hope  remained  for  the  monarchy  the 
two  brothers  struggled  bravely.  Timoleon  stayed 
near  the  King  till  August  10,  and  only  went  to  Eng- 
land after  he  had  taken  part  in  the  defence  of  the 
Tuileries ;  Bonnoeil  had  emigrated  the  preceding 
year,  and  served  in  the  army  of  the  Princes.  Mme. 
de  Combray,  left  alone  with  her  two  daughters — the 
husband  of  the  elder  had  also  emigrated, — left 
Tournebut  in  1793,  and  settled  in  Rouen,  where,  al- 
though she  owned  much  real  estate  in  the  town,  she 
rented  in  the  Rue  de  Valasse,  Faubourg  Bouvreuil, 
"  an  isolated,  unnumbered  house,  with  an  entrance 
towards  the  country."  She  gave  her  desire  to  finish 
the  education  of  her  younger  daughter  who  was  en- 
tering her  twentieth  year  as  a  reason  for  her  retreat. 

Caroline  de  Combray  was  very  small, — "  as  large 
as  a  dog  sitting,"  they  said, — bufcharming  ;  her  com- 
plexion was  delicately  pure,  her  black  hair  of  extra- 
ordinary length  and  abundance.  She  was  loving  and 
sensible,  very  romantic,  full  of  frankness  and  vivacity ; 
the  great  attraction  of  her  small  person  was  the  result 
of  a  piquant  combination  of  energy  and  gentleness. 
She  had  been  brought  up  in  the  convent  of  the 
Nouvelles  Catholiques  de  Caen,  where  she  stayed  six 
years,  receiving  lessons  from  "  masters  of  all  sorts  of 
accomplishments,  and  of  different  languages."  She 
was  a  musician  and  played  the  harp,  and  as  soon  as 
they    were    settled    in    Rouen    her   mother    engaged 


50    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

Boieldieu  as  her  accompanist,  "  to  whom  she  long 
paid  six  silver  francs  per  lesson,"  a  sum  that  seemed 
fabulous  in  that  period  of  paper-money,  and  territorial 
mandates. 

Madame  de  Combray,  besides,  was  much  straight- 
ened. As  both  her  sons  had  emigrated,  all  the  prop- 
erty that  they  inherited  from  their  father  was 
sequestrated.  Of  the  income  of  50,000  francs 
possessed  by  the  family  before  the  Revolution, 
scarcely  fifty  remained  at  her  disposal,  and  she  had 
been  obliged  to  borrow  to  sustain  the  heavy  expenses 
of  her  house  in  Rouen. 

Besides  her  two  daughters  and  the  servants,  she 
housed  half  a  dozen  nuns  and  two  or  three  Chartreux, 
among  them  a  recusant  friar  called  Lemercier,  who 
soon  gained  great  influence  in  the  household.  By 
reason  of  his  refractoriness  Pere  Lemercier  was 
doomed,  if  discovered,  to  death,  or  at  least  to  deporta- 
tion, and  it  will  be  understood  that  he  sympathised 
but  feebly  with  the  Revolution  that  consigned  him, 
against  his  will,  to  martyrdom.  He  called  down  the 
vengeance  of  heaven  on  the  miscreants,  and  not  dar- 
ing to  show  himself,  with  unquenchable  ardour 
preached  the  holy  crusade  to  the  women  who  sur- 
rounded him. 

Mme.  de  Combray's  royalist  enthusiasm  did  not 
need  this  inspiration ;  a  wise  man  would  have  coun- 
selled resignation,  or  at  least  patience,  but  unhappily, 
she  was  surrounded  only  by  those  whose  fanaticism 
encouraged  and  excused  her  own.  Enthusiastic 
frenzy  had  become  the  habitual  state  of  these  people. 


i 


THE  COMBRAYS  51 

whose  overheated  imaginations  were  nourished  on 
legendary  tales,  and  foolish  hopes  of  imminent  re- 
prisals. They  welcomed  with  unfailing  credulity  the 
wildest  prophecies,  announcing  terrible  impending 
massacres,  to  which  the  miraculous  return  of  the 
Bourbon  lilies  would  put  an  end,  and  as  illusions  of 
this  kind  are  strengthened  by  their  own  deceptions, 
the  house  in  the  Rue  de  Valasse  soon  heard  myste- 
rious voices,  and  became  the  scene  ''  of  celestial  ap- 
paritions," which,  on  the  invitation  of  Pere  Lemercier 
predicted  the  approaching  destruction  of  the  blues 
and  the  restoration  of  the  monarchy. 

On  a  certain  day  in  the  summer  of  1795,  a 
stranger  presented  himself  to  Pere  Lemercier,  armed 
with  a  password,  and  a  very  warm  recommendation 
from  a  refractory  priest,  who  was  in  hiding  at  Caen. 
He  was  a  Chouan  chief,  bearing  the  name  and  title  of 
General  Lebret ;  of  medium  stature,  with  red  hair 
and  beard,  and  cold  steel-coloured  eyes.  Introduced 
to  Mme.  de  Combray  by  Lemercier,  he  admitted  that 
his  real  name  was  Louis  Acquet  d'Hauteporte,  Chev- 
alier de  Ferolles.  He  had  come  to  Rouen,  he  said,  to 
transmit  the  orders  of  the  Princes  to  Mallet  de  Cre^y, 
who  commanded  for  the  King  in  Upper  Normandy. 

We  can  judge  of  the  welcome  the  Chevalier  re- 
ceived. Mme.  de  Combray,  her  daughters,  the  nuns 
and  the  Chartreux  friars  used  all  their  ingenuity  to 
satisfy  the  slightest  wish  of  this  man,  who  modestly 
called  himself  "the  agent  general  of  His  Majesty." 
They  arranged  a  hiding-place  for  him  in  the  safest 
part   of   the   house,  and   Pere  Lemercier  blessed   it. 


52    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

Acquet  stayed  there  part  of  the  day,  and  in  the  even- 
ing joined  in  the  usual  pursuits  of  the  household,  and 
related  the  story  of  his  adventures  by  way  of  enter- 
tainment. 

According  to  him,  he  possessed  large  estates  in  the 
environs  of  the  Sables-d*01onne,  of  which  place  he 
was  a  native.  An  officer  in  the  regiment  of  Brie 
infantry  before  the  Revolution,  being  at  Lille  in  1791 
he  had  taken  advantage  of  his  nearness  to  the  frontier 
to  incite  his  regiment  to  insurrection  and  emigrate  to 
Belgium.  He  had  then  put  himself  at  the  disposal  of 
the  Princes,  and  had  enlisted  men  for  the  royal  army 
in  Vendee,  Poitou  and  Normandy,  helping  priests  to 
emigrate,  and  saving  whole  villages  from  the  fury  of 
the  blues.  He  named  Charette,  Frotte  and  Puisaye 
as  his  most  intimate  friends,  and  these  names  recalled 
the  chivalrous  times  of  the  wars  in  the  west  in  which 
he  had  taken  a  glorious  part.  Sometimes  he  disap- 
peared for  several  days,  and  on  his  return  from  these 
mysterious  absences,  would  let  it  be  known  that  he 
had  just  accomplished  some  great  deed,  or  brought  a 
dangerous  mission  to  a  successful  termination.  In 
this  way  the  Chevalier  Acquet  de  Ferolles  had  be- 
come the  idol  of  the  little  group  of  naive  royalists 
among  whom  he  had  found  refuge.  He  had  bravely 
served  the  cause  ;  he  plumed  himself  on  having  mer- 
ited the  surname  of  "  toutou  of  the  Princes,"  and  in 
Mme.  de  Combray's  dazzled  eyes  this  was  equal  to 
any  number  of  references. 

Acquet  was  in  reality  an  adventurer.  If  we  were 
to  take  account  here  of  all  the  evil  deeds  he  is  cred- 


THE  COMBRAYS  53 

ited  with,  we  should  be  suspected  of  wantonly  black- 
ening the  character  of  this  melodramatic  figure.  A 
few  facts  gathered  by  the  Combrays  will  serve  to 
describe  him.  As  an  officer  at  Lille  he  was  about  to 
be  imprisoned  as  the  result  of  an  odious  accusation, 
but  deserted  and  escaped  to  Belgium,  not  daring  to 
join  the  army  of  the  emigres.  He  stopped  at  Mons, 
then  went  to  the  west  of  France,  and  became  a 
Chouan,  but  politics  had  nothing  to  do  with  this  act. 
He  associated  himself  with  some  bravos  of  his  stripe^ 
and  plundered  travellers,  and  levied  contributions  on 
the  purchasers  of  national  property.  In  the  Eure, 
where  he  usually  pursued  his  operations,  he  assassin- 
ated with  his  own  hand  two  defenceless  gamekeep- 
ers whom  his  little  band  had  encountered. 

He  delighted  in  taking  the  funds  of  the  country 
school-teachers,  and  to  give  a  colour  of  royalism  to 
the  deed,  he  would  nightly  tear  down  the  trees  of 
liberty  in  the  villages  in  which  he  operated.  Tired 
at  last  of  "  an  occupation  where  there  was  nothing 
but  blows  to  receive,  and  his  head  to  lose,"  he  went 
to  seek  his  fortune  in  Rouen  ;  and  before  he  presented 
himself  to  Mme.  de  Combray,  had  without  doubt 
made  enquiries.  He  knew  he  would  find  a  rich 
heiress,  whose  two  brothers,  emigrated,  would  prob- 
ably never  return,  and  from  the  first  he  set  to  work  to 
flatter  the  royalist  hobby  of  the  mother,  and  the 
romantic  imagination  of  the  young  girl.  Pere 
Lemercier  was  himself  conquered;  Acquet,  to  catch 
him,  pretended  the  greatest  piety  and  most  scrupulous 
devotion. 


54     THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

A  note  of  Bonnoeirs  informs  us  of  the  way  this 
tragic  intrigue  ended.  "Acquet  employed  every 
means  of  seduction  to  attain  his  end.  The  young 
girl,  fearing  to  remain  long  unmarried  because  of  the 
unhappy  times,  listened  to  him,  in  spite  of  the  many 
reasons  for  waiting  and  for  refusing  the  proposals  of 
a  man  whose  name,  country  and  fortune  were  un- 
known to  them.  The  mother's  advice  was  unfortu- 
nately not  heeded,  and  she  found  herself  obliged  to 
consent  to  the  marriage,  the  laws  of  that  period  giv- 
ing the  daughters  full  liberty,  and  authorising  them  to 
shake  off  the  salutary  parental  yoke." 

The  dates  of  certain  papers  complete  the  discreet 
periphrases  of  Bonnoeil.  The  truth  is  that  Acquet 
"  declared  his  passion  "  to  Mile,  de  Combray  and  as 
she,  a  little  doubtful  though  well-disposed  to  allow 
herself  to  be  loved,  still  hesitated,  the  Chevalier 
signed  a  sort  of  mystic  engagement  dated  January  i, 
1796,  where,  "in  sight  of  the  Holy  Church  and  at 
the  pleasure  of  God,"  he  pledged  himself  to  marry 
her  on  demand.  She  carefully  locked  up  this  precious 
paper,  and  a  little  less  than  ten  months  later,  the  17th 
October,  the  municipal  agent  of  Aubevoye,  in  which 
is  situated  the  Chateau  of  Tournebut,  inscribed  the 
birth  of  a  daughter,  born  to  the  citizeness  Louise- 
Charlotte  de  Combray,  "  wife  of  the  citizen  Louis 
Acquet."  Here,  then,  is  the  reason  that  the  Mar- 
quise "  found  herself  obliged  to  consent  to  the  mar- 
riage," which  did  not  take  place  until  the  following 
year,  mention  of  it  not  being  made  in  the  registry  of 
Rouen  until  the  date  17th  June,  1797. 


THE  COMBRAYS  55 

Acquet  had  thus  attained  his  wish ;  he  had  seduced 
Mile,  de  Combray  to  make  the  marriage  inevitable, 
and  this  accomplished,  under  pretext  of  preventing 
their  sale,  he  caused  the  estates  of  the  Combrays 
situated  at  Donnay  near  Falaise,  and  sequestrated  by 
the  emigration  of  Bonnoeil,  to  be  conveyed  to  him. 
Scarcely  was  this  done  when  he  began  to  pillage  the 
property,  turning  everything  into  money,  cutting 
down  woods,  and  sparing  neither  thickets  nor  hedges. 
"  The  domain  of  Donnay  became  a  sort  of  desert  in 
his  hands."  Stopped  in  his  depredations  by  a  com- 
plaint of  his  two  brothers-in-law  he  tried  to  attack  the 
will  of  the  Marquis  de  Combray,  pretending  that  his 
wife,  a  minor  at  the  time  of  her  father's  death,  had 
been  injured  in  the  division  of  property.  This  was 
to  declare  open  war  on  the  family  he  had  entered,  and 
to  compel  his  wife  to  espouse  his  cause  he  beat  her 
unmercifully.  A  second  daughter  was  born  of  this 
unhappy  union,  and  even  the  children  did  not  escape 
the  brutality  of  their  father.  A  note  on  this  subject, 
written  by  Mme.  Acquet,  is  of  heart-breaking 
eloquence : 

"  M.  Acquet  beat  the  children  cruelly  every  day  ; 
he  ill-treated  me  also  unceasingly :  he  often  chastised 
them  with  sticks,  which  he  always  used  when  he 
made  the  children  read ;  they  were  continually  black 
and  blue  with  the  blows  they  received.  He  gave  me 
such  a  severe  blow  one  day  that  blood  gushed  from 
my  nose  and  mouth,  and  I  was  unconscious  for  some 
moments.  ...  He  went  to  get  his  pistols  to 
blow  out   my  brains,  which  he  would   certainly  have 


56     THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

done  if  people  had  not  been  present.  .  .  ,  He 
was  always  armed  with  a  dagger." 

In  January,  1804,  Mme.  Acquet  resolved  to  escape 
from  this  hell.  Profiting  by  her  husband's  absence  in 
La  Vendee  she  wrote  to  him  that  she  refused  to  live 
with  him  longer,  and  hastened  to  Falaise  to  ask  a 
shelter  from  her  brother  Timoleon,  who  had  lately 
returned  to  France.  Timoleon,  in  order  to  prevent  a 
scandal,  persuaded  his  sister  to  return  to  her  husband's 
house.  She  took  this  wise  advice,  but  refused  to  see 
M.  Acquet,  who,  returning  in  haste  and  finding  her 
barricaded  in  the  chateau,  called  the  justice  of  the 
peace  of  the  canton  of  Harcourt,  aided  by  his  clerk 
and  two  gendarmes,  to  witness  that  his  wife  refused 
to  receive  him.  Having,  one  fine  morning,  "  found 
her  desk  forced  and  all  her  papers  taken,"  she  re- 
turned to  Falaise,  obtained  a  judgment  authorising 
her  to  live  with  her  brother,  and  lodged  a  petition  for 
separation. 

Things  were  at  this  point  when  the  trial  of  Georges 
Cadoudal  was  in  progress.  Acquet,  exasperated  at  the 
resistance  to  his  projects,  swore  that  he  would  have 
signal  vengeance  on  his  wife  and  all  the  Combrays. 
They  were,  unhappily,  to  give  his  hatred  too  good  an 
opportunity  of  showing  itself. 

After  passing  three  years  in  Rouen,  Mme.  de  Com- 
bray  returned  to  Tournebut  in  the  spring  of  1796, 
with  her  royalist  passions  and  illusions  as  strong  as 
ever.  She  had  declared  war  on  the  Revolution,  and 
believed  that  victory  was  assured  at  no  distant  period. 
It   is   a  not  uncommon  effect  of  political  passion  to 


THE  COMBRAYS  57 

blind  its  subjects  to  the  point  of  believing  that  their 
desires  and  hopes  are  imminent  realities.  Mme.  de 
Combray  anticipated  the  return  of  the  King  so  im- 
patiently that  one  of  her  reasons  for  returning  to  the 
chateau  was  to  prepare  apartments  for  the  Princes  and 
their  suite  in  case  the  debarkation  should  take  place 
on  the  coast  of  Normandy.  Once  before,  in  1792, 
Gaillon  had  been  designated  as  a  stopping-place  for 
Louis  XVI  in  case  he  should  again  make  the  attempt 
that  had  been  frustrated  at  Varennes.  The  Chateau 
de  Gaillon  was  no  longer  habitable  in  1796,  but 
Tournebut,  in  the  opinion  of  the  Marquise,  offered 
the  same  advantages,  being  about  midway  between 
the  coast  and  Paris.  Its  isolation  also  permitted  the 
reception  of  passing  guests  without  awakening  sus- 
picion, while  the  vast  secret  rooms  where  sixty  to 
eighty  persons  could  hide  at  one  time,  were  well 
suited  for  holding  secret  councils.  To  make  things 
still  safer,  Mme.  de  Combray  now  acquired  a  large 
house,  situated  about  two  hundred  yards  from  the 
walls  of  Tournebut,  and  called  "  Gros-Mesnil "  or 
"  Le  Petit  Chateau."  It  was  a  two-story  building 
with  a  high  slate  roof;  the  court  in  front  was  sur- 
rounded by  huts  and  offices ;  a  high  wall  enclosed  the 
property  on  all  sides,  and  a  pathway  led  from  it  to  one 
of  the  doors  in  the  wall  surrounding  Tournebut. 
'  As  soon  as  she  was  in  possession  of  the  Petit 
Chateau,  Mme.  de  Combray  had  some  large  secret 
places  constructed  in  it.  For  this  work  she  em- 
ployed a  man  called  Soyer  who  combined  the  func- 
tions of  intendant,  maitre  d'hotel  and  valet-de-cham- 


58    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

bre  at  Tournebut.  Soyer  was  born  at  Combray,  one 
of  the  Marquise's  estates  in  Lower  Normandy,  and 
entered  her  service  in  1791,  at  the  age  of  sixteen,  in 
the  capacity  of  scullion.  He  had  gone  with  his  mis- 
tress to  Rouen  during  the  Terror,  and  since  the  return 
to  Tournebut  she  had  given  the  administration  of  the 
estate  into  his  hands.  In  this  way  he  had  authority 
over  the  domestics  at  the  chateau,  who  numbered 
six,  and  among  whom  the  chambermaid  Querey  and 
the  gardener  Chatel  deserve  special  mention.  Each 
year,  about  Easter,  Mme.  de  Combray  went  to  Rouen, 
where  under  pretext  of  purchases  to  make  and  rents 
to  collect,  she  remained  a  month.  Only  Soyer  and 
Mile.  Querey  accompanied  her.  Besides  her  patri- 
monial house  in  the  Rue  Saint-Amand,  she  had  re- 
tained the  quiet  house  in  the  Faubourg  Bouvreuil 
which  still  served  as  a  refuge  for  the  exiles  sought  by 
the  police  of  the  Directory,  and  as  a  depot  for  the 
refractories  who  were  sure  of  finding  supplies  there 
and  means  of  rejoining  the  royalist  army.  Tourne- 
but itself,  admirably  situated  between  Upper  and 
Lower  Normandy,  became  the  refuge  for  all  the 
partisans  whom  a  particularly  bold  stroke  had  brought 
to  the  attention  of  the  authorities  on  either  bank  of 
the  river,  totally  separated  at  this  time  by  the  slowness 
and  infrequency  of  communication,  and  also  by  the 
centralisation  of  the  police  which  prevented  direct 
intercourse  between  the  different  departmental  au- 
thorities. It  was  in  this  way  that  Mme.  de  Com- 
bray, having  become  from  1796  to  1804,  the  chief  of 
the  party  with  the  advantage  of  being  known  as  such 


THE  COMBRAYS  59 

only  to  the  party  itself,  sheltered  the  most  compro- 
mised of  the  chiefs  of  Norman  Chouannerie,  those 
strange  heroes  whose  mad  bravery  has  brought  them 
a  legendary  fame,  and  whose  names  are  scarcely  to  be 
found,  doubtfully  spelled,  in  the  accounts  of  historians. 

Among  those  who  sojourned  at  Tournebut  was 
Charles  de  Margadel,  one  of  Frotte's  officers,  who 
had  organised  a  royalist  police  even  in  Paris.  Thence 
he  had  escaped  to  deal  some  blows  in  the  Eure  under 
the  orders  of  Hingant  de  Saint-Maur,  another  habitue 
of  Tournebut  who  was  preparing  there  his  astonish- 
ing expedition  of  Pacy-sur-Eure.  Besides  Margadel 
and  Hingant,  Mme.  de  Combray  had  oftenest  sheltered 
Armand  Gaillard,  and  his  brother  Raoul,  whose  death 
we  have  related.  Deville,  called  "  Tamerlan  "  ;  the 
brothers  Tellier;  Le  Bienvenu  du  Buc,  one  of  the 
officers  of  Hingant ;  also  another,  hidden  under  the 
name  of  Collin,  called  "  Cupidon  "  ;  a  German  bravo 
named  Flierle,  called  "  Le  Marchand,"  whom  we 
shall  meet  again,  were  also  her  guests,  without  count- 
ing "  Sauve-la-Graisse,"  "Sans-Quartier,"  "  Blondel," 
"  Perce-Pataud  " — actors  in  the  drama,  without  name 
or  history,  who  were  always  sure  of  finding  in  the 
"cachettes"  of  the  great  chateau  or  the  Tour  de 
TErmitage,  refuge  and  help. 

These  were  compromising  tenants,  and  it  is  quite 
easy  to  imagine  what  amusements  at  Tournebut 
served  to  fill  the  leisure  of  these  men  so  long  unac- 
customed to  regular  occupation,  and  to  whom  strife 
and  danger  had  become  absolute  necessaries.  Some 
statistics,  rather  hard  to  prove,  will  furnish  hints  on 


I 


6o    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

this  point.  In  September,  1800,  the  two  coaches 
from  Caen  to  Paris  were  stopped  between  Evreux  and 
Pacy,  at  a  place  called  Riquiqui,  by  two  hundred 
armed  brigands,  and  48,000  livres  belonging  to  the 
State  taken.  Again,  in  1800,  the  coach  from  Rouen 
to  Pont-Audemer  was  attacked  by  twenty  Chouans 
and  a  part  of  the  funds  carried  off.  In  180 1  a  coach 
was  robbed  near  Evreux;  some  days  later  the  mail 
from  Caen  to  Paris  was  plundered  by  six  brigands. 
On  the  highroad  on  the  right  bank  of  the  Seine  at- 
tacks on  coaches  were  frequent  near  Saint-Gervais, 
d*Authevernes,  and  the  old  mill  of  Mouflaines.  It 
was  only  a  good  deal  later,  when  the  chateau  of 
Tournebut  was  known  as  an  avowed  retreat  of  the 
Chouans,  that  it  occurred  to  the  authorities  that  "  by 
its  position  at  an  equal  distance  from  the  two  roads  to 
Paris  by  Vernon  and  by  Magny-en-Vexin,  where  the 
mail  had  so  often  been  stopped,"  it  might  well  have 
served  as  a  centre  of  operations,  and  as  the  authors 
of  these  outrages  remained  undiscovered,  they  credited 
them  all  to  Mme.  de  Combray's  inspiration,  and  this 
accusation  without  proof  is  none  too  bold.  The 
theft  of  state  funds  was  a  bagatelle  to  people  whom 
ten  years  of  implacable  warfare  had  rendered  blase 
about  all  brigandage.  Moreover,  it  was  easily  con- 
ceivable that  the  snare  laid  by  Bonaparte  for  Frotte, 
who  was  so  popular  in  Normandy,  the  summary 
execution  of  the  General  and  his  six  officers,  the  as- 
sassination of  the  Due  d'Enghien,  the  death  of 
Georges  Cadoudal  (almost  a  god  to  the  Chouans)  and 
of   his    brave    companions,   following    so    many   im- 


THE  COMBRAYS  6i 

prisonments  without  trial,  acts  of  police  treachery, 
traps  and  denunciations  paid  for  and  rewarded,  had 
exasperated  the  vanquished  royalists,  and  envenomed 
their  hatred  to  the  point  of  believing  any  expedient 
justifiable.  Such  was  the  state  of  mind  of  Mme.  de 
Combray  in  the  middle  of  1804,  at  which  date  we 
have  stopped  the  recital  of  the  marital  misfortunes  of 
Mme.  Acquet  de  Ferolles,  and  it  justified  Bonald's 
saying  :  "  Foolish  deeds  done  by  clever  men,  ex- 
travagances uttered  by  men  of  intellect,  crimes  com- 
mitted by  honest  people — such  is  the  story  of  the 
revolution." 

D'Ache  had  taken  refuge  at  Tournebut.  He  had 
left  Paris  as  soon  as  the  gates  were  opened,  and 
whether  he  had  escaped  surveillance  more  cleverly 
than  the  brothers  Gaillard,  whether  he  had  been  able 
to  get  immediately  to  Saint-Germain  where  he  had  a 
refuge,  and  from  there,  without  risking  the  passage 
of  a  ferry  or  a  bridge,  without  stopping  at  any  inn, 
had  succeeded  in  covering  in  one  day  the  fifteen 
leagues  that  separated  him  from  Gaillon,  he  arrived 
without  mishap  at  Tournebut  where  Mme.  de  Com- 
bray immediately  shut  the  door  of  one  of  the  hiding- 
places  upon  him. 

Tournebut  was  familiar  ground  to  d'Ache.  He 
was  related  to  Mme.  de  Combray,  and  before  the 
Revolution,  when  he  was  on  furlough,  he  had  made 
long  visits  there  while  "  grandmere  Brunelle "  was 
still  alive.  He  had  been  back  since  then  and  had 
spent  there  part  of  the  autumn  of  1803.     There  had 


62    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

been  a  grand  reunion  at  the  chateau  then,  to  celebrate 
the  marriage  of  M.  du  Hasey,  proprietor  of  a  chateau 
near  Gaillon.  Du  Hasey  was  aide-de-camp  to  Guerin 
de  Bruslard,  the  famous  Chouan  whom  Frotte  had 
designated  as  his  successor  to  the  command  of  the 
royal  army,  and  who  had  only  had  to  disband  it.  This 
reunion,  which  is  often  mentioned  in  the  reports,  by 
the  nature  and  quality  of  the  guests,  was  more  im- 
portant than  an  ordinary  wedding-feast. 

D'Ache  learned  at  Tournebut  of  the  proclamation 
of  the  Empire  and  the  death  of  Georges.  He  looked 
upon  it  as  a  death-blow  to  the  royalist  hopes ;  where- 
ever  one  might  turn  there  was  no  resource — no  chiefs, 
no  money,  no  men.  If  many  royalists  remained  in 
the  Orne  and  the  Manche,  it  was  impossible  to  group 
them  or  pay  them.  The  government  gained  strength 
and  authority  daily ;  at  the  slightest  movement  France 
felt  the  iron  grasp  in  which  she  was  held  tightened 
around  her,  and  such  was  the  prestige  of  the  extra- 
ordinary hero  who  personified  the  whole  regime,  that 
even  those  he  had  vanquished  did  not  disguise  their 
admiration.  The  King  of  Spain — a  Bourbon — sent 
him  the  insignia  of  the  Golden  Fleece.  The  world 
was  fascinated  and  history  shows  no  example  of 
material  and  moral  power  comparable  to  that  of 
Napoleon  when  the  Holy  Father  crossed  the  moun- 
tains to  recognise  and  hail  him  as  the  instrument  of 
Providence,  and  anoint  him  Caesar  in  the  name  of 
God. 

It  was,  however,  just  at  this  time  that  d'Ache,  an 
exile,  concealed  in  the  Chateau  of  Tournebut,  without 


I 


THE  COMBRAYS  63 

a  companion,  without  a  penny,  without  a  counsellor 
or  ally  other  than  the  aged  woman  who  gave  him 
refuge,  conceived  the  astonishing  idea  of  struggling 
against  the  man  before  whom  all  Europe  bowed  the 
knee.  Looked  at  in  this  light  it  seems  madness,  but 
undoubtedly  d'Ache's  royalist  illusions  blinded  him  to 
the  conditions  of  the  duel  he  was  to  engage  in.  But 
these  illusions  were  common  to  many  people  for 
whom  Bonaparte,  at  the  height  of  his  power,  was 
never  anything  but  an  audacious  criminal  whose 
factitious  greatness  was  at  the  mercy  of  a  well-directed 
and  fortunate  blow. 

Fouche's  police  had  not  given  up  hopes  of  finding 
the  fugitive.  They  looked  for  him  in  Paris,  Rouen, 
Saint-Denis-du-Bosguerard,  near  Bourgtheroulde, 
where  his  mother  possessed  a  small  estate ;  they 
watched  closest  at  Saint-Clair  whither  his  wife  and 
daughters  had  returned  after  the  execution  of  Georges. 
The  doors  of  the  Madelonnettes  prison  had  been 
opened  for  them  and  they  had  been  informed  that  they 
must  remove  themselves  forty  leagues  from  Paris  and 
the  coast ;  but  the  poor  woman,  almost  without 
resources,  had  not  paid  attention  to  this  injunction, 
and  they  were  allowed  to  remain  at  Saint-Clair  in  the 
hope  that  d'Ache  would  tire  of  his  wandering  life,  and 
allow  himself  to  be  taken  at  home.  As  to  Placide,  as 
soon  as  he  found  himself  out  of  the  Temple,  and  had 
conducted  his  sister-in-law  and  nieces  home,  he  re- 
turned to  Rouen,  where  he  arrived  in  mid-July. 
Scarcely  had  he  been  one  night  in  his  lodging  in  the 
Rue  Saint-Patrice,  when  he  received  a  letter — how,  or 


64    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

from  where  he  could  not  say — announcing  that  his 
brother  had  gone  away  so  as  not  to  compromise  his 
family  again,  and  that  he  would  not  return  to  France 
until  general  peace  was  proclaimed,  hoping  then  to 
obtain  permission  from  the  government  to  end  his 
days  in  the  bosom  of  his  family. 

D'Ache,  however,  was  living  in  Tournebut  without 
much  mystery.  The  only  precaution  he  took  was  to 
avoid  leaving  the  property,  and  he  had  taken  the  name 
of  "  Deslorieres,"  one  of  the  pseudonyms  of  Georges 
Cadoudal,  "  as  if  he  wanted  to  name  himself  as  his 
successor."  Little  by  little  the  servants  became  ac- 
customed to  the  presence  of  this  guest  of  whom  Mme. 
de  Combray  took  such  good  care  "  because  he  had  had 
differences  with  the  government,"  as  she  said.  Under 
pretext  of  repairs  undertaken  in  the  church  of  Au- 
bevoye,  the  cure  of  the  parish  was  invited  to  celebrate 
mass  every  Sunday  in  the  chapel  of  the  chateau,  and 
d*Ache  could  thus  be  present  at  the  celebration  with- 
out showing  himself  in  the  village. 

Doubtless  the  days  passed  slowly  for  this  man  ac- 
customed to  an  active  life  ;  he  and  his  old  friend  dreamt 
of  the  return  of  the  King,  and  Bonnoeil,  who  spent 
part  of  the  year  at  Tournebut,  read  to  them  a  funeral 
oration  of  the  Due  d'Enghien,  a  virulent  pamphlet 
that  the  royalists  passed  from  hand  to  hand,  and  of 
which  he  had  taken  a  copy.  How  many  times  must 
d'Ache  have  paced  the  magnificent  avenue  of  limes, 
which  still  exists  as  the  only  vestige  of  the  old  park. 
There  is  a  moss-grown  stone  table  on  which  one 
loves  to  fancy  this  strange  man   leaning  his  elbow 


THE  COMBRAYS  65 

while  he  thought  of  his  "  rival,"  and  planned  the 
future  according  to  his  royalist  illusions  as  the  other 
in  his  Olympia,  the  Tuileries,  planned  it  according  to 
his  ambitious  caprices. 

This  existence  lasted  fifteen  months.  From  the 
time  of  his  arrival  at  the  end  of  March,  1804,  until 
the  day  he  left,  it  does  not  seem  that  d'Ache  received 
any  visitors,  except  Mme.  Levasseur  of  Rouen,  who, 
if  police  reports  are  to  be  believed,  was  simultaneously 
his  mistress  and  Raoul  Gaillard's.  The  truth  is  that 
she  was  a  devoted  friend  of  the  royalists — to  whom 
she  had  rendered  great  service,  and  through  her 
d'Ache  was  kept  informed  of  what  happened  in  Lower 
Normandy  during  his  seclusion  at  Tournebut.  Since 
the  general  pacification,  tranquillity  was,  in  appearance 
at  least,  established ;  Chouannerie  seemed  to  be  for- 
gotten. But  conscription  was  not  much  to  the  taste 
of  the  rural  classes,  and  the  rigour  with  which  it  was 
applied  alienated  the  population.  The  number  of  re- 
fractories and  deserters  augmented  at  each  requisition  ; 
protected  by  the  sympathy  of  the  peasants  they  easily 
escaped  all  search  ;  the  country  people  considered  them 
victims  rather  than  rebels,  and  gave  them  assistance 
when  they  could  do  so  without  being  seen.  There 
were  here  all  the  elements  of  a  new  insurrection ;  to 
which  would  be  added,  if  they  succeeded  in  uniting 
and  equipping  all  these  malcontents,  the  survivors  of 
Frotte's  bands,  exasperated  by  the  rigours  of  the  new 
regime,  and  the  ill-treatment  of  the  gendarmes. 

The  descent  of  a  French  prince  on  the  Norman 
coast  would  in  d'Ache's  opinion,  group  all  these  mal- 


66     THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

contents.  Thoroughly  persuaded  that  to  persuade 
one  of  them  to  cross  the  channel  it  would  suffice  to 
tell  M.  le  Comte  d'Artois  or  one  of  his  sons  that  his 
presence  was  desired  by  the  faithful  population  in  the 
West,  he  thought  of  going  himself  to  England  with 
the  invitation.  Perhaps  they  would  be  able  to  per- 
suade the  King  to  put  himself  at  the  head  of  the 
movement,  and  be  the  first  to  land  on  French  soil. 
This  was  d' Ache's  secret  conviction,  and  in  the  ardour 
of  his  credulous  enthusiasm  he  was  certain  that  on  the 
announcement.  Napoleon's  Empire  would  crumble  of 
itself,  without  the  necessity  of  a  single  blow. 

Such  was  the  eternal  subject  of  conversation  be- 
tween Mme.  de  Combray  and  her  guest,  varied  by 
interminable  parties  of  cards  of  tric-trac.  In  their 
feverish  idleness,  isolated  from  the  rest  of  the  world, 
ignorant  of  new  ideas  and  new  manners,  they  shut 
themselves  up  with  their  illusions,  which  took  on  the 
colour  of  reality.  And  while  the  exile  studied  the  part 
of  the  coast  where,  followed  by  an  army  of  volunteers 
with  white  plumes,  he  would  go  to  receive  his 
Majesty,  the  old  Marquise  put  the  last  touches  to  the 
apartments  long  ago  prepared  for  the  reception  of  the 
King  and  his  suite  on  their  way  to  Paris.  And  in 
order  to  perpetuate  the  remembrance  of  this  visit, 
which  would  be  the  most  glorious  page  in  the  history 
of  Tournebut,  she  had  caused  the  old  part  of  the  cha- 
teau, left  unfinished  by  Marillac,  to  be  restored  and 
ornamented. 

In  July,  1805,  after  more  than  a  year  passed  in  this 
solitude,  d'Ache  judged  that  the  moment  to  act  had 


THE  COMBRAYS  67 

arrived.  The  Emperor  was  going  to  take  the  field 
against  a  new  coalition,  and  the  campaign  might  be 
unfavourable  to  him.  It  only  needed  a  defeat  to  shake 
to  its  foundations  the  new  Empire  whose  prestige  a 
victorious  army  alone  maintained.  It  was  important 
to  profit  by  this  chance  should  it  arrive.  And  in 
order  to  be  within  reach  of  the  English  cruiser  d'Ache 
had  to  be  near  Cotentin;  he  had  many  devoted 
friends  in  this  region  and  was  sure  of  finding  a  safe 
retreat.  Mme.  de  Combray,  taking  advantage  of  the 
fair  of  Saint-Clair  which  was  held  every  year  in  mid- 
July,  near  the  Chateau  of  Donnay,  could  conduct  her 
guest  beyond  Falaise  without  exciting  suspicion. 
They  determined  to  start  then,  and  about  July  15, 
1805,  the  Marquise  left  Tournebut  with  her  son  Bon- 
noeil,  in  a  cabriolet  that  d'Ache  drove,  disguised  as  a 
postillion. 

In  this  equipage,  the  man  without  any  resource  but 
his  courage,  and  his  royalist  faith,  whose  dream  was 
to  change  the  course  of  the  world's  events,  started  on 
his  campaign  ;  and  one  is  obliged  to  think,  in  face  of 
this  heroic  simplicity,  of  Cervantes'  hero,  quitting  his 
house  one  fine  morning,  and  armed  with  an  old  shield 
and  lance,  encased  in  antiquated  armour  and  animated 
by  a  sublime  but  foolish  faith,  going  forth  to  succour 
the  oppressed,  and  declare  war  on  Giants. 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE  ADVENTURES  OF  D*ACHE 

The  demesne  of  Donnay,  situated  about  three 
leagues  from  Falaise  on  the  road  to  Harcourt,  was  one 
of  the  estates  which  Acquet  de  Ferolles  had  usurped, 
under  pretext  of  saving  them  from  the  Public  Treas- 
ury and  of  taking  over  the  management  of  the  prop- 
erty of  his  brother-in-law,  Bonnoeil,  who  was  an 
emigre.  Now,  the  latter  had  for  some  time  returned 
to  the  enjoyment  of  his  civil  rights,  but  Acquet  had 
not  restored  his  possessions.  This  terrible  man,  act- 
ing in  the  name  of  his  wife,  who  was  a  claimant  of 
the  inheritance  of  the  late  M.  de  Combray,  had  insti- 
tuted a  series  of  lawsuits  against  his  brother-in-law. 
He  proved  to  be  such  a  clever  tactician,  that  though 
Mme.  Acquet  had  for  some  time  been  suing  for  a 
separation,  he  managed  to  live  on  the  Combray  es- 
tates;  fortifying  his  position  by  means  of  a  store  of 
quotations  drawn,  as  occasion  demanded,  from  the 
Common  Law  of  Normandy,  the  Revolutionary  Laws 
and  the  Code  Napoleon.  To  deal  with  these  ques- 
tions in  detail  would  be  wearisome  and  useless.  Suf- 
fice it  to  say  that  at  the  period  at  which  we  have 
arrived,  all  that  Mme.  Acquet  had  to  depend  upon 
was  a  pension  of  2,000  francs  which  the  court  had 
granted   to  her  on  August   i,   1804,  for  her  mainte- 

68 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  D'ACHE      69 

nance  pending  a  definite  decision.  She  lived  alone  at 
the  Hotel  de  Combray  in  the  Rue  du  Trepot  at 
Falaise,  a  very  large  house  composed  of  two  main 
buildings,  one  of  which  was  vacant  owing  to  the  ab- 
sencc  of  Timoleon  who  had  settled  in  Paris.  Mme. 
de  Combray  had  undertaken  to  assist  with  her  grand- 
daughters' education,  and  they  had  been  sent  off  to  a 
school  kept  by  a  Mme.  du  Saussay  at  Rouen. 

Foreseeing  that  this  state  of  things  could  not  last 
forever,  Acquet,  despite  Bonnoeirs  oft-repeated  pro- 
tests, continued  to  devastate  Donnay,  so  as  to  get  all 
he  could  out  of  it,  cutting  down  the  forests,  chopping 
the  elms  into  faggots,  and  felling  the  ancient  beeches. 
The  very  castle  whose  facade  but  lately  reached  to 
the  end  of  the  stately  avenue,  suffered  from  his  devas- 
tations. It  was  now  nothing  but  a  ruin  with  swing- 
doors  and  a  leaking  roof.  Here  Acquet  had  reserved 
a  garret  for  himself,  abandoning  the  rest  of  the  house 
to  the  ravages  of  time  and  the  weather.  Shut  up  in 
this  ruin  like  a  wild  beast  in  his  lair,  he  would  not 
permit  the  slightest  infringement  of  what  he  called 
his  rights.  Mme.  de  Combray  wished  to  spend  the 
harvest  season  of  1803  at  the  chateau,  where  the 
happiest  years  of  her  life  had  been  passed,  and  where 
all  her  children  had  grown  up,  but  Acquet  made  the 
bailiff  turn  her  out,  and  the  Marquise  took  refuge  in 
the  village  parsonage,  which  had  been  sold  at  the  time 
of  the  Revolution  as  national  property,  and  for  which 
she  had  supplied  half  the  money,  when  the  Commune 
bought  it  back,  to  restore  it  to  its  original  purpose. 
Since  no  priest  had  yet  been  appointed  she  was  able 


70    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

to  take  up  her  residence  there,  to  the  indignation  of 
her  son-in-law,  who  considered  this  intrusion  as  a 
piece  of  bravado. 

Two  years  later  Mme.  de  Combray  had  still  no 
other  shelter  at  Donnay,  and  it  was  to  this  parsonage 
that  she  brought  d'Ache.  They  arrived  there  on  the 
evening  of  July  17th.  A  long  stay  in  this  con- 
spicuous house,  which  was  always  exposed  to  the 
hateful  espionage  of  Acquet,  was  out  of  the  question 
for  the  exile.  He  nevertheless  spent  a  fortnight 
there,  without  trying  to  hide  himself,  even  going  so 
far  as  to  hunt,  and  receive  several  visits,  among  others 
one  from  Mme.  Acquet,  who  came  from  Falaise  to 
see  her  mother,  and  thus  met  d'Ache  for  the  first 
time.  At  the  beginning  of  August  he  quitted 
Donnay,  and  Mme.  de  Combray  accompanied  him  as 
far  as  the  country  chateau  of  a  neighbour,  M. 
Descroisy,  where  he  passed  one  night.  At  break  of 
day  he  set  out  on  horseback  in  the  direction  of 
Bayeux,  Mme.  de  Combray  alone  knowing  where  he 
went. 

In  this  neighbourhood  d'Ache  had  the  choice  of 
several  places  of  refuge.  He  was  closely  connected 
by  ties  of  friendship  with  the  family  of  Duquesnay 
de  Monfiquet  who  lived  at  Mandeville  near  Trevieres. 
M.  de  Monfiquet,  a  thoroughly  loyal  but  quite  unim- 
portant nobleman,  having  emigrated  at  the  outbreak 
of  the  Revolution,  his  estate  at  Mandeville  had  been 
sequestrated  and  his  chateau  pillaged  and  half  demol- 
ished. Mme.  de  Monfiquet,  a  clever  and  energetic 
woman,  being  left  with  six  daughters  unprovided  for, 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  D^ACHE       71 

took  refuge  with  the  d' Aches  at  Gournay,  where  she 
spent  the  whole  period  of  the  Terror.  Madame 
d*Ache  even  kept  Henriette,  one  of  the  little  girls 
who  was  ill-favoured  and  hunchbacked  but  remarkably 
clever,  with  her  for  five  years. 

Monsieur  de  Monfiquet,  returning  from  abroad  in 
the  year  VII,  and  having  somewhat  reorganised  his 
little  estate  at  Mandeville,  lived  there  in  poverty  with 
his  family  in  the  hope  that  brighter  days  would  dawn 
for  them  with  the  return  of  the  monarchy.  On  all 
these  grounds  d'Ache  was  sure  of  finding  not  only  a 
safe  retreat  but  congenial  society.  The  few  persons 
who  were  acquainted  with  what  passed  at  Mandeville 
were  convinced  that  Mile.  Henriette  possessed  a  great 
influence  over  the  exile,  and  that  she  had  been  his 
mistress  for  a  long  time.  According  to  general 
opinion  he  made  her  his  confidant  and  she  helped  him 
like  a  devoted  admirer.  In  fact  she  arranged  several 
other  hiding-places  for  him  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
Trevieres  in  case  of  need  ; — one  at  the  mill  at  Dungy, 
another  with  M.  de  Cantelou  at  Lingevres,  and  a 
third  at  a  tanner's  named  La  Perandeere  at  Bayeux. 
And  to  escort  him  in  his  flights  she  secured  a  man  of 
unparalleled  audacity  who  had  been  a  brigand  in  the 
district  for  ten  years,  and  who  had  to  avenge  the 
death  of  his  two  brothers,  who  had  fallen  into  an  am- 
bush and  been  shot  at  Bayeux  in  1796.  People 
called  him  David  the  Intrepid.  Having  been  ten 
times  condemned  to  death  and  certain  of  being  shot 
as  soon  as  he  was  caught,  David  had  no  settled  abode. 
On  stormy  nights  he  would  embark  in  a  boat  which 


72    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

he  steered  himself,  and,  sure  of  not  being  overtaken, 
he  would  reach  England  where  he  used  to  act  as  an 
agent  for  the  emigrants.  They  say  that  he  was  not 
without  influence  with  the  entourage  of  the  Comte 
d^Artois.  When  he  stayed  in  France  he  lodged  with 
an  old  lady  former  housekeeper  to  a  Councillor  of  the 
Parliament  of  Normandy,  who  lived  alone  in  an  old 
house  in  Bayeux  and  to  whom  he  had  been  recom- 
mended by  Mile.  Henriette  de  Monfiquet.  David 
did  not  take  up  much  room.  When  he  arrived  he 
set  in  motion  a  contrivance  of  his  own  by  which  two 
steps  of  the  principal  staircase  were  raised,  and  slip- 
ping into  the  cavity  thus  made,  he  quickly  replaced 
everything.  All  the  gendarmes  in  Calvados  could 
have  gone  up  and  down  this  staircase  without  suspect- 
ing that  a  man  was  hidden  in  the  house,  where,  how- 
ever, he  was  never  looked  for. 

These  were  the  persons  and  means  made  use  of 
by  d'Ache  in  his  new  theatre  of  operations :  a  poor 
hunchbacked  girl  was  his  council,  and  his  army  was 
composed  of  David  the  Intrepid.  He  was,  moreover, 
penniless.  At  the  beginning  of  the  autumn  Mme.  de 
Combray  sent  him  eight  louis  by  Lanoe,  a  keeper  who 
had  been  in  her  service,  and  who  now  occupied  a 
small  farm  at  Glatigny,  near  to  Bretteville-sur-Dives. 
Lanoe  belonged  to  that  rapacious  type  of  peasant 
whom  even  a  small  sum  of  money  never  fails  to  at- 
tract. Already  he  had  on  two  occasions  acted  as 
guide  to  the  Baron  de  Commarque  and  to  Frotte  when 
Mme.  de  Combray  offered  them  shelter  at  Donnay. 
For  this  he   had  been  summoned  before  a  military 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  D'ACHE       73 

commission  and  spent  nearly  two  years  in  prison,  but 
this  had  no  effect.  For  three  francs  he  would  walk 
ten  leagues  and  if  he  complained  sufficiently  of  the 
dangers  to  which  these  missions  exposed  him  the  sum 
was  doubled  and  he  would  go  away  satisfied.  In  the 
middle  of  August  he  went  to  Mandeville  to  fetch 
d'Ache  to  Donnay,  where  he  spent  ten  days  and 
again  passed  three  weeks  at  the  end  of  September. 
He  was  to  have  gone  there  again  in  December,  but  at 
the  moment  when  he  was  preparing  to  start  Bonnoeil 
suddenly  appeared  at  Mandeville,  having  come  to  warn 
him  not  to  venture  there  as  Mme.  de  Combray  had 
been  accused  of  a  crime  and  was  on  the  point  of  be- 
ing arrested. 

It  was  not  without  vexation  that  Acquet  saw  his 
mother-in-law  settling  herself  at  his  very  door. 
Keenly  on  the  lookout  for  any  means  of  annoying 
the  Marquise,  he  was  struck  by  the  idea  that  if  an 
incumbent  were  appointed  to  the  vacant  cure  of 
Donnay,  he  would  have  to  live  at  the  parsonage,  half 
of  which  belonged  to  the  Commune,  and  that  their 
being  obliged  to  live  in  the  same  house  would  be  a 
great  inconvenience  to  Mme.  de  Combray.  This 
prospect  charmed  Acquet,  and  as  he  had  several 
friends  in  high  positions,  among  them  the  Baron 
Darthenay  his  neighbour  at  Meslay,  who  had  lately 
been  elected  deputy  for  Calvados,  he  had  small  diffi- 
culty in  getting  a  priest  appointed.  A  few  days  after- 
wards a  cure,  the  Abbe  Clerisse,  arrived  at  Donnay, 
fully  determined  to  carry  out  the  duties  of  his  ministry 


74    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

faithfully,  and  very  far  from  foreseeing  the  tragic  fate 
in  store  for  him. 

Mme.  de  Combray  had  made  herself  quite  comfort- 
able at  the  parsonage,  which  she  considered  in  a  man- 
ner her  own  property  since  she  had  furnished  half  the 
money  for  its  purchase.  She  now  saw  herself  com- 
pelled to  surrender  a  portion  of  it,  which  from  the 
very  first  embittered  her  against  the  new  arrival. 
Acquet,  for  his  part,  feted  his  protege,  and  welcoming 
him  cordially  put  him  on  his  guard  against  the  machi- 
nations of  the  Marquise,  whom  he  represented  as  an 
inveterate  enemy  of  the  conciliatory  government  to 
which  France  owed  the  Concordat.  The  Abbe 
Clerisse,  who,  from  the  construction  of  the  house  was 
obliged  to  use  the  rooms  in  common  with  Mme.  de 
Combray,  was  not  long  in  noticing  the  mysterious  be- 
haviour of  the  occupants.  There  were  conferences 
conducted  in  whispers,  visitors  who  arrived  at  night 
and  left  at  dawn,  secret  comings  and  goings,  in  short, 
all  the  strange  doings  of  a  houseful  of  conspirators,  so 
that  the  good  cure  one  day  took  Lanoe  aside  and 
recommended  him  to  be  prudent,  "  predicting  that  he 
would  get  himself  into  serious  difficulties  if  he  did  not 
quit  the  service  of  the  Marquise  as  soon  as  possible." 
Mme.  de  Combray,  in  her  exasperation,  called  the 
Abbe  ''  Concordataire,"  an  epithet  which,  from  her, 
was  equivalent  to  renegade.  She  had  the  imprudence 
to  add  that  the  reign  of  the  "  usurper  would  not  last 
forever,  and  that  the  princes  would  soon  return  at  the 
head  of  an  English  army  and  restore  everything."  In 
her  wrath  she  left  the  parsonage,  making  a  great  com- 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  D^ACHE       75 

motion,  and  went  to  beg  shelter  from  her  farmer 
Hebert,  who  lived  in  a  cottage  used  as  a  public  house, 
called  La  Bijude,  where  the  road  from  Harcourt  met 
that  from  Cesny.  Acquet  was  triumphant.  The  as- 
tonished Abbe  remained  passive ;  and  as  ill  luck 
would  have  it,  fell  ill  and  died  a  few  days  afterwards. 
A  report  was  circulated,  emanating  from  the  chateau, 
that  he  had  died  of  grief  caused  by  Mme.  de  Com- 
bray.  Then  people  began  to  talk  in  whispers  about 
a  certain  basket  of  white  wine  with  which  she  had 
presented  the  poor  priest.  A  week  later  all  those 
who  sided  with  Acquet  were  convinced  that  the  Mar- 
quise had  poisoned  the  Abbe  Clerisse,  "  after  having 
been  imprudent  enough  to  take  him  into  her  con- 
fidence." Feeling  ran  high  in  the  village.  Acquet 
affected  consternation.  The  authorities,  no  doubt  in- 
formed by  him,  began  making  investigations  when  a 
nephew  of  the  Marquise,  M.  de  Saint  Leonard,  Mayor 
of  Falaise,  who  was  on  very  good  terms  with  the 
Court,  came  down  to  hush  up  the  affair  and  impose 
silence  on  the  mischief-makers. 

This  first  bout  between  Acquet  de  Ferolles  and  the 
family  de  Combray  resulted  in  d'Ache's  being  for- 
bidden the  house  of  his  old  friend.  Feeling  herself 
in  the  clutches  of  an  enemy  who  was  always  on  the 
watch,  she  did  not  dare  to  expose  to  denunciation  a 
man  on  whose  head  the  fate  of  the  monarchy  rested. 
D'Ache  did  not  come  to  La  Bijude  the  whole  winter. 
Mme.  de  Combray  lived  there  alone  with  her  son 
Bonnoeil  and  the  farmer  Hebert.  She  had  the  house 
done  up  and  repainted,  but  it  distressed  her  to  be  so 


76    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

meanly  lodged,  and  she  regretted  the  lofty  halls  and  the 
quiet  of  Tournebut.  At  the  beginning  of  Lent,  1806, 
she  sent  Lanoe  for  the  last  time  to  Mandeville  to  ar- 
range with  d'Ache  some  means  of  correspondence, 
and  with  Bonnoeil  she  again  started  for  Gaillon,  de- 
termined never  again  to  set  foot  on  her  estates  in 
Lower  Normandy  as  long  as  her  son-in-law  reigned 
there,  and  thoroughly  convinced  that  the  fast  ap- 
proaching return  of  the  King  would  avenge  all  the 
humiliations  she  had  lately  endured.  She  had,  more- 
over, quarrelled  with  her  daughter,  who  had  only 
come  to  Donnay  twice  during  her  mother's  stay,  and 
had  there  displayed  only  a  very  moderate  appreciation 
of  d* Ache's  plans,  and  had  seemed  entirely  uninter- 
ested in  the  annoyance  caused  to  the  Marquise,  and 
her  exodus  to  La  Bijude. 

If  Mme.  Acquet  de  Ferolles  was  really  lacking  in 
interest,  it  was  because  a  great  event  had  occurred  in 
her  own  life. 

Acquet  knew  that  his  wife's  suit  for  a  separation 
must  inevitably  be  granted.  The  ill-treatment  she 
had  had  to  endure  was  only  too  well-known,  and 
every  one  in  Falaise  took  her  part.  If  Acquet  lost 
the  case,  it  would  mean  the  end  of  the  easy  life  he 
was  leading  at  Donnay,  and  he  not  only  wished  to 
gain  time  but  secretly  hoped  that  his  wife  would  com- 
mit some  indiscretion  that  would  regain  for  him  if  not 
the  sympathies  of  the  public,  at  least  her  loss  of  the 
suit  which  if  won,  would  ruin  him.  In  order  to  carry 
out  his  Machiavellian  schemes,  he  pretended  that  he 
wished  to  come  to  an  understanding  with  the  Com- 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  D'ACHE       77 

bray  family,  and  he  despatched  one  of  his  friends  to 
Mme.  Acquet  to  open  negotiations.  This  friend, 
named  Le  Chevalier,  was  a  handsome  young  man  of 
twenty-five,  with  dark  hair,  a  pale  complexion  and 
white  teeth.  He  had  languishing  eyes,  a  sympathetic 
voice  and  a  graceful  figure,  inexhaustible  good-hu- 
mour, despite  his  melancholy  appearance,  and  un- 
bounded audacity.  As  he  was  the  owner  of  a  farm 
in  the  Commune  of  Saint  Arnould  in  the  neighbour- 
hood of  Exmes,  he  was  called  Le  Chevalier  de  Saint- 
Arnould,  which  gave  him  the  position  of  a  nobleman. 
He  was  moreover  related  to  the  nobility. 

Less  has  been  written  about  Le  Chevalier  than 
about  most  of  those  who  were  concerned  in  the 
troubles  in  the  west.  Nevertheless,  his  adventures 
deserve  more  than  the  few  lines,  often  incorrect,  de- 
voted to  him  by  some  chroniclers  of  the  revolt  of  the 
Chouans.  He  was  a  remarkable  personality,  very 
romantic,  somewhat  of  an  enigma,  and  one  who  by  a 
touch  of  gallantry  and  scepticism  was  distinguished 
from  his  savage  and  heroic  companions. 

Born  with  a  generous  temperament  and  deeply  in 
love  with  glory,  as  he  said,  he  was  the  son  of  a 
councillor,  hammer-keeper  to  the  corporation  of  the 
woods  and  forests  of  Vire.  A  stay  of  several  years  in 
Paris  where  he  took  lessons  from  different  masters  as 
much  in  science  as  in  the  arts  and  foreign  languages, 
had  completed  his  education.  He  returned  to  Saint 
Arnould  in  1799,  uncertain  as  to  the  choice  of  a 
career,  when  a  chance  meeting  with  Picot,  chief  of 
the  Auge  division,  whose  death  was  described  at  the 


78     THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

beginning  of  this  story,  decided  his  vocation,  and  Le 
Chevalier  became  a  royalist  officer,  less  from  con- 
viction than  from  generous  feelings  w^hich  inclined 
him  towards  the  cause  of  the  vanquished  and  op- 
pressed. A  pistol  shot  broke  his  left  arm  tvi^o  or 
three  days  after  he  was  enrolled,  and  he  was  scarcely 
cured  of  this  wound  when  he  again  took  the  field  and 
was  implicated  in  the  stopping  of  a  coach.  Three  of 
his  friends  were  imprisoned,  and  when  he  himself  was 
arrested,  he  succeeded  in  proving  that  on  the  very  day 
of  the  attack,  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Evreux,  he  was 
on  a  visit  to  a  senator  in  Paris  who  had  great  friends 
among  the  authorities,  and  the  magistrates  were  com- 
pelled to  yield  before  this  indisputable  alibi.  Le 
Chevalier,  nevertheless,  appeared  before  the  tribunal 
which  was  trying  the  cases  of  his  companions,  and 
pleaded  their  cause  with  the  eloquence  inspired  by  the 
purest  and  bravest  friendship,  and  when  he  heard  them 
condemned  to  death,  he  begged  in  a  burst  of  feeling 
which  amazed  everybody,  to  be  allowed  to  share  their 
fate.  It  was  considered  a  sufficient  punishment  to 
send  him  to  prison  at  Caen,  whence  he  was  liberated 
a  few  months  later,  though  he  had  to  remain  in  the 
town  under  police  surveillance.  It  was  then  that  the 
wild  romance  of  his  life  began. 

He  possessed  an  ample  fortune.  His  chivalrous 
behaviour  in  the  affair  at  Evreux  had  gained  for  him, 
among  the  Chouans  such  renown  that  without  know- 
ing him  otherwise  than  from  hearsay,  Mme.  de  Com- 
bray  travelled  across  Normandy,  as  did  many  other 
royalist  ladies  in  order  to  visit  the  hero  in  prison  and 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  D'ACHfi       79 

offer  him  her  services.  He  had  admirers  who  fawned 
on  him,  flatterers  who  praised  him  to  the  skies,  and 
how  could  this  rather  hot-headed  youth  of  twenty 
resist  such  adulation  at  that  strange  epoch  when  even 
the  wisest  lost  their  balance  ?  At  least  his  folly  was 
generous. 

Scarcely  out  of  prison  he  was  seized  with  pity  for 
the  misery  of  the  pardoned  Chouans,  veritable  pariahs, 
who  lived  by  all  sorts  of  contrivances  or  were  de- 
pendent on  charity,  and  he  made  their  care  his  special 
charge.  He  was  always  followed  by  a  dozen  of  these 
parasites,  a  ragged  troop  of  whom  filled  the  Cafe 
Hervieux,  where  he  held  his  court  and  which  more- 
over was  frequented  by  teachers  of  English,  mathe- 
matics and  fencing,  whom  he  had  in  his  pay,  and 
from  whom  he  took  lessons  when  not  playing  faro. 

Le  Chevalier  had  a  warm  heart,  and  a  purse  that 
was  never  closed.  He  was  a  facile  speaker  whose 
eloquence  was  of  a  forensic  type.  His  friendships 
were  passionate.  While  in  prison  he  received  news 
of  the  death  of  one  of  his  friends,  Gilbert,  who  had 
been  guillotined  at  Evreux,  and  when  some  one  con- 
gratulated him  on  his  approaching  release  he  replied  : 
"  Ah,  my  dear  comrade  !  do  you  think  this  is  a  time 
to  congratulate  me  ?  Do  you  know  so  little  of  my 
heart  and  are  you  so  ignorant  of  the  love  I  bore 
Gilbert  ?  The  happiness  of  my  life  is  destroyed  for- 
ever. Nothing  can  fill  the  void  in  my  heart.  .  . 
I  have  lived,  ah  !  far  too  long.  O  divine  duties  of 
friendship  and  honour,  how  my  heart  burns  to  fulfil 
you !       O   eternity  or  annihilation,  how  sweet   will 


8o    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

you  seem  to  me  whence  once  I  have  fulfilled  them !  " 
Such  was  Le  Chevalier's  style  and  this  affection  con- 
trasted singularly  with  the  world  in  which  he  lived. 
His  comparative  wealth,  his  generosity,  and  an  air  of 
mystery  about  his  life,  gave  him  a  certain  advantage 
over  the  most  popular  leaders.  People  knew  that  he 
was  dreaming  of  gigantic  projects,  and  his  partisans, 
considered  him  cut  out  for  the  accomplishment  of 
great  things. 

In  reality  Le  Chevalier  squandered  his  patrimony 
recklessly.  The  treasury  of  the  party — presided  over 
by  an  old  officer  of  Frotte's,  Bureau  de  Placene,  who 
pompously  styled  himself  the  Treasurer-General — was 
empty,  and  orders  came  from  "high  places,"  without 
any  one  exactly  knowing  whence  they  emanated,  for 
the  faithful  to  refill  them  by  pillaging  the  coffers  of  the 
state.  The  police  had  little  by  little  relaxed  their 
supervision  of  Le  Chevalier's  conduct,  and  he  took 
advantage  of  this  to  go  away  for  short  periods.  It 
was  remarked  that  each  of  his  absences  generally 
coincided  with  the  stopping  of  a  coach — a  frequent 
occurrence  in  Normandy  at  this  time,  and  one  that 
was  considered  as  justifiable  by  the  royalists.  Seldom 
did  they  feel  any  qualms  about  these  exploits.  The 
driver,  and  often  his  escort,  were  accomplices  of  the 
Chouans.  A  few  shots  were  fired  from  muskets  or 
pistols  to  keep  up  the  pretence  of  a  fight.  Some  of 
the  men  opened  the  chests  while  others  kept  watch. 
The  money  belonging  to  the  government  was  divided 
to  the  last  sou,  while  that  belonging  to  private  indi- 
viduals was  carefully  returned  to  the  strong  box.     A 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  D'ACHE       8i 

few  hours  later  the  band  returned  to  Caen  and  the 
noisy  meetings  at  the  Cafe  Hervieux  were  not  even 
interrupted. 

What  renders  the  figure  of  Le  Chevalier  especially 
attractive,  despite  these  mad  pranks,  which  no  one  of 
his  day  considered  dishonourable,  is  the  deep  private 
grief  which  saddened  his  adventurous  life.  In  i8oi, 
when  he  was  twenty-one  years  of  age,  and  during  his 
detention  at  Caen,  he  had  married  Lucile  Thiboust,  a 
girl  somewhat  older  than  himself,  whose  father  had 
been  overseer  of  an  estate.  He  was  obliged  to  break 
out  of  prison  to  spend  a  few  rare  hours  with  the  wife 
whom  he  dearly  loved,  all  the  more  so  since  his 
passion  was  oftenest  obliged  to  expend  itself  in  ardent 
letters  not  devoid  of  literary  merit.  In  prison  he 
learned  of  the  birth  of  a  son  born  of  this  union,  and  a 
week  later,  of  the  death  of  his  adored  wife.  His  grief 
was  terrible,  but  he  was  seized  with  a  passionate  love 
for  his  child,  and  it  is  said  that  from  that  day  forth  he 
cared  for  no  one  else.  He  had  lived  so  fast  that  at 
the  age  of  twenty-three  he  was  tired  of  life ;  his  only 
anxiety  was  for  the  future  of  his  son,  whom  he  had 
confided  to  the  care  of  a  good  woman  named  Marie 
Hamon.  He  traced  out  a  line  of  conduct  for  this 
babe  in  swaddling  clothes  :  "  Let  him  flee  corruption, 
seduction  and  all  shameful  and  violent  passions ;  let 
him  be  a  friend  as  they  were  in  ancient  Greece,  a 
lover  as  in  ancient  Gaul." 

In  short  his  exploits,  his  captivity,  his  sorrows,  his 
eloquence,  his  courage,  his  noble  bearing,  made  Le 
Chevalier  a  hero  of  romance,  and  this  was  the  man 


82    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

whom  Acquet  de  Ferolles  deemed  it  wise  to  despatch 
to  his  wife.  Doubtless  he  had  made  his  acquaintance 
through  the  medium  of  some  of  his  Chouan  com- 
rades. He  received  him  at  Donnay,  and  in  order  to 
attach  him  to  himself  lent  him  large  sums  of  money, 
which  Le  Chevalier  immediately  distributed  among 
the  crowd  of  parasites  that  never  left  him.  Acquet 
told  him  of  the  separation  with  which  his  wife  threat- 
ened him,  begging  him  to  use  all  his  eloquence  to 
bring  about  an  amicable  settlement. 

The  poor  woman  would  never  have  known  this 
peacemaker  but  for  her  husband,  and  we  are  ignorant 
of  the  manner  in  which  he  acquitted  himself  of  his 
mission.  She  had  yielded  as  much  from  inexperience 
as  from  compulsion,  to  a  man  who  for  five  years  had 
made  her  life  a  martyrdom.  She  lived  at  Falaise  in 
an  isolation  that  accorded  ill  with  her  yearning  for 
love  and  her  impressionable  nature.  The  person  who 
now  came  suddenly  into  her  life  corresponded  so  well 
with  her  idea  of  a  hero — he  was  so  handsome,  so 
brave,  so  generous,  he  spoke  with  such  gentleness  and 
politeness  that  Mme.  Acquet,  to  whom  these  qualities 
were  startling  novelties,  loved  him  from  the  first  day 
with  an  "  ungovernable  passion."  She  associated 
herself  with  his  life  with  an  ardour  that  excluded 
every  other  sentiment,  and  she  so  wished  to  stand 
well  with  him  that,  casting  aside  all  prudence,  she 
adopted  his  adventurous  mode  of  living,  mixing  with 
the  outcasts  who  formed  the  entourage  of  her  lover, 
and  with  them  frequenting  the  inns  and  cafes  of 
Caen.     He  succeeded  in  avoiding  the  surveillance  of 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  D'ACHfi       83 

the  police,  and  secretly  undertook  journeys  to  Paris 
where  he  said  he  had  friends  in  the  Emperor's  im- 
mediate circle.  He  travelled  by  those  roads  in  Nor- 
mandy which  were  known  to  all  the  old  Chouans, 
talking  to  them  of  the  good  times  when  they  made 
war  on  the  Blues,  and  not  hesitating  to  say  that, 
whenever  he  wished,  he  had  only  to  make  a  sign  and 
an  army  would  spring  up  around  him.  He  main- 
tained, moreover,  a  small  troop  of  determined  men 
who  carried  his  messages  and  formed  his  staff. 

There  is  not  the  slightest  doubt  that  their  chief  re- 
source lay  in  carrying  off  the  money  of  the  State 
which  was  sent  from  place  to  place  in  public  convey- 
ances, and  it  was  this  booty  that  enriched  the  coffers 
of  the  party,  the  treasurer,  Placene,  having  long  since 
grown  indifferent  to  the  source  of  his  supplies.  The 
agreement  of  certain  dates  is  singularly  convincing. 
Thus,  at  the  beginning  of  December,  1805,  d'Ache 
was  at  Mandeville  with  the  Monfiquets,  in  a  state  of 
such  penury  that,  as  we  have  seen,  Mme.  de  Com- 
bray  sent  him  eight  louis  d'or  by  Lanoe;  neverthe- 
less, he  was  thinking  of  going  to  England  to  fetch 
back  the  princes.  He  would  require  a  considerable 
sum  to  prepare  for  his  journey,  and  to  guard  against 
all  the  contingencies  of  this  somewhat  audacious  at- 
tempt. Mme.  Acquet  was  informed  of  the  situation 
by  her  mother  whom  she  came  to  visit  at  Donnay, 
and  on  the  22d  December,  1805,  the  coach  from 
Rouen  to  Paris  was  attacked  on  the  slope  of  Authc- 
vernes,  at  a  distance  of  only  three  leagues  from  the 
Chateau  of  Tournebut.     The  travellers  noticed  that 


84    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

one  of  the  brigands,  dressed  in  a  military  costume,  and 
whom  his  comrades  called  The  Dragon,  was  so  much 
thinner  and  more  active  than  the  rest,  that  he  might 
well  have  been  taken  "  for  a  woman  dressed  as  a 
man."  A  fresh  attack  was  made  at  the  same  place 
by  the  same  band  on  the  15th  February,  1806;  and 
as  before  the  band  disappeared  so  rapidly,  once  the 
blow  was  struck,  that  it  seemed  they  must  have  taken 
refuge  in  one  of  the  neighbouring  houses.  Suspicion 
fell  on  the  Chateau  de  Mussegros,  situated  about  three 
leagues  from  Authevernes ;  but  nobody  then  thought 
of  Tournebut,  the  owners  of  which  had  been  absent 
for  seven  months.  It  was  only  in  March  that  Mme. 
de  Combray  returned  there,  and  it  was  in  April  that 
d'Ache,  having  laid  in  a  good  stock  of  money,  de- 
cided to  cross  the  channel  and  convey  to  the  princes 
the  good  wishes  of  their  faithful  provinces  in  the 
west.    ' 

D'Ache  had  not  wasted  his  time  during  his  stay  at 
Mandeville.  It  was  a  difficult  enterprise  in  existing 
circumstances  to  arrange  his  crossings  with  any 
chance  of  success.  The  embarkation  was  easy 
enough,  and  David  the  Intrepid  had  undertaken  to 
see  to  it ;  but  it  was  especially  important  to  secure  a 
safe  return,  and  a  secret  landing  on  the  French  coast, 
lined  as  it  was  by  patrols,  watched  day  and  night  by 
custom-house  officers,  and  guarded  by  sentinels  at 
every  point  where  a  boat  could  approach  the  shore, 
offered  almost  insuperable  difficulties.  D*Ache 
selected  a  little  creek  at  the  foot  of  the  rocks  of  Saint 
Honorine,  scarcely  two  leagues  from  Trevieres  and 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  D*ACH£       85 

David,  who  knew  all  the  coast  guards  in  the  district, 
bribed  one  of  them  to  become  an  accomplice. 

It  was  on  a  stormy  night  at  the  end  of  April,  1806, 
that  d'Ache  put  to  sea  in  a  boat  seventeen  feet  long, 
which  was  steered  by  David  the  Intrepid.  After 
tossing  about  for  fifty  hours,  they  landed  in  England. 
David  immediately  stood  out  to  sea  again,  while 
d'Ache  took  the  road  to  London. 

One  can  easily  imagine  what  the  feelings  of  these 
royalist  fanatics  must  have  been  when  they  ap- 
proached the  princes  to  whom  they  had  devoted  so 
many  years  of  their  lives,  hunted  over  France  and 
pursued  like  malefactors ;  how  they  must  have  antici- 
pated the  welcome  in  London  that  their  devotion 
merited.  They  were  prepared  to  be  treated  like  sons 
by  the  King,  as  friends  by  the  princes,  as  leaders  by 
the  emigrants,  who  were  only  waiting  to  return  till 
France  was  reconquered  for  them.  The  deception 
was  cruel.  The  emigrant  world,  so  easy  to  dupe  on 
account  of  its  misfortunes,  and  immeasurable  vanity, 
had  fallen  a  victim  to  so  many  false  Chouans — spies 
in  disguise  and  barefaced  swindlers,  who  each  brought 
plans  for  the  restoration,  and  after  obtaining  money 
made  off  and  were  never  seen  again — that  distrust  at 
last  had  taken  the  place  of  the  unsuspecting  confi- 
dence of  former  days.  Every  Frenchman  who  ar- 
rived in  London  was  considered  an  adventurer,  and 
as  far  as  we  can  gather  from  this  closed  page  of 
history, — for  those,  who  tried  the  experiment  of  a 
visit  to  the  exiled  princes,  have  respectfully  kept 
silence  on  the   subject  of  their  discomfiture — it  ap- 


86     THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

pears  that  terrible  mortifications  were  in  store  for  the 
militant  royalists  who  approached  the  emigrant  lead- 
ers. D'Ache  did  not  escape  disillusionment,  and 
though  he  did  not  disclose  the  incidents  of  his  stay  in 
London,  we  know  that  at  first  he  was  thrown  into 
prison,  and  that  for  two  months  he  could  not  succeed 
in  obtaining  an  interview  with  the  Comte  d'Artois, 
much  less  with  the  exiled  King. 

M.  de  la  Chapelle,  the  most  influential  man  at  the 
little  court  at  Hartwell,  sent  for  him  and  questioned 
him  about  his  plans,  but  was  opposed  to  his  being  re- 
ceived by  the  princes,  though  he  put  him  in  com- 
munication with  King  George's  ministers,  every 
person  who  brought  news  of  any  plot  against  Napo- 
leon's government  being  sure  of  a  welcome  and  a 
hearing  from  the  latter. 

After  three  weeks  of  conferences  the  expedition 
which  was  to  support  a  general  rising  of  the  peasants 
in  the  West,  was  postponed  till  the  spring  of  1807. 
A  feigned  attack  on  Port-en-Bessin  would  allow  of 
their  surprising  the  islands  of  Tahitou  and  Saint- 
Marcouf  as  well  as  Port-Bail  on  the  western  slope 
of  the  Cotentin.  The  destruction  of  the  roads, 
which  protect  the  lower  part  of  the  peninsula,  would 
insure  the  success  of  the  undertaking  by  cutting  off 
Cherbourg  which,  attacked  from  behind,  would  easily 
be  carried,  resistance  being  impossible.  The  invading 
army,  concentrating  under  the  forts  of  the  town,  in 
which  they  would  have  a  safe  retreat,  would  descend 
by  Carenton  on  Saint-Lo  and  Caen  to  meet  the  army 
of  peasants  and  malcontents  whose  cooperation  d'Ache 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  D'ACHfi       87 

guaranteed.  He  undertook  to  collect  twenty  thou- 
sand men ;  the  English  government  offered  the  same 
number  of  Russian  and  Swedish  soldiers,  and  to  pro- 
vide for  their  transportation  to  the  coast  of  France. 
Pending  this,  d'Ache  was  given  unlimited  credit  on 
the  banker  Nourry  at  Caen. 

His  stay  in  London  lasted  nearly  three  months. 
Towards  the  end  of  July  an  English  frigate  took  him 
to  the  fleet  where  Admiral  Saumarez  received  him 
with  great  deference,  and  equipped  a  brig  with  four- 
teen cannon  to  convey  him  to  the  shore.  When,  at 
night,  they  were  within  a  gunshot  of  the  coast  of 
Saint-Honorine,  d*Ache  himself  made  the  signals 
agreed  upon,  which  were  quickly  answered  by  the 
coast  guard  on  shore.  An  hour  afterwards  David 
the  Intrepid's  boat  hailed  the  English  brig,  and  before 
daybreak  d'Ache  was  back  at  Mandeville,  sharing 
with  his  hosts  the  joy  he  felt  at  the  success  of  his 
voyage.  They  began  to  make  plans  immediately.  It 
was  decided  on  the  spot  that  the  Chateau  de  Mon- 
fiquet  should  shelter  the  King  during  the  first  few 
days  after  he  landed.  Eight  months  were  to  elapse 
before  the  beginning  of  the  campaign,  and  as  money 
was  not  lacking  this  time  was  sufficient  for  d*Ache  to 
prepare  for  operations. 

We  may  as  well  mention  at  once  that  the  English 
Cabinet,  while  playing  on  the  fanaticism  of  d'Ache, 
as  they  had  formerly  done  on  that  of  Georges  Ca- 
doudal  and  so  many  others,  had  not  the  slightest  in- 
tention of  keeping  their  promises.  Their  hatred  of 
Napoleon  suggested  to  them  the  infamous  idea  of  ex- 


88     THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

citing  the  naive  royalists  of  France  by  raising  hopes 
they  never  meant  to  satisfy.  They  abandoned  them 
once  they  saw  their  dupes  so  deeply  implicated  that 
there  was  no  drawing  back,  caring  little  if  they  helped 
them  to  the  scaffold,  desirous  only  of  maintaining 
agitations  in  France  and  of  driving  them  into  such 
desperate  straits  that  some  assassin  might  arise  from 
among  them  who  would  rid  the  world  of  Bonaparte. 
Here  lies,  doubtless,  one  of  the  reasons  why  the  ex- 
iled princes  so  obstinately  refused  to  encourage  their 
partisans*  attempts.  Did  they  know  of  the  snares 
laid  for  these  unhappy  creatures  ?  Did  they  not  dare 
to  put  them  on  their  guard  for  fear  of  offending  the 
English  government  ?  Was  this  the  rent  they  paid 
for  Hartwell  ?  The  history  of  the  intrigues  which 
played  around  the  claimant  to  the  throne  is  full  of 
mystery.  Those  who  were  mixed  up  in  them,  such 
as  Fauche-Bonel  or  Hyde  de  Neuville  were  ruined, 
and  it  required  the  daylight  of  the  Restoration  to 
open  the  eyes  of  the  persons  most  interested  to  the 
fact  that  certain  professions  of  devotion  had  been 
treacherous. 

As  far  as  d'Ache  was  concerned  it  seems  fairly 
certain  that  he  did  not  receive  any  promise  from  the 
princes,  and  was  not  even  admitted  to  their  presence ; 
the  English  ministers  alone  encouraged  him  to  em- 
bark on  this  extraordinary  adventure,  in  which  they 
were  fully  determined  to  let  him  ruin  himself. 
Therefore  the  "  unlimited "  credit  opened  at  the 
banker  Nourry's  was  only  a  bait :  while  making  the 
conspirators  think  they  would  never  want  for  money, 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  D'ACHE      89 

the  credit  was  limited  beforehand  to  30,000  francs,  a 
piece  of  duplicity  which  enraged  even  the  detectives 
who,  later  on,  discovered  it. 

It  is  not  easy  to  follow  d'Ache  in  the  mysterious 
work  upon  which  he  entered :  the  precautions  he 
took  to  escape  the  police  have  caused  him  to  be  lost 
to  posterity  as  well.  Some  slight  landmarks  barely 
permit  our  following  his  trail  during  the  few  years 
which  form  the  climax  of  his  wonderful  career. 

We  find  him  first  of  all  during  the  autumn  of  1806, 
at  La  Bijude,  where  Mme.  de  Combray,  who  had 
remained  at  Tournebut  had  charged  Bonnoeil  and 
Mme.  Acquet  to  go  and  receive  him.  There  was 
some  question  of  providing  him  with  a  messenger 
familiar  with  the  haunts  of  the  Chouans  and  the 
dangers  connected  with  the  task.  To  fulfil  this  duty 
Mme.  Acquet  proposed  a  German  named  Flierle 
whom  Le  Chevalier  recommended.  Flierle  had  dis- 
tinguished himself  in  the  revolt  of  the  Chouans;  a 
renowned  fighter,  he  had  been  mixed  up  in  every  plot. 
He  was  in  Paris  at  the  time  of  the  eighteenth  Fruc- 
tidor;  he  turned  up  there  again  at  the  moment  when 
Saint-Rejant  was  preparing  his  infernal  machine ;  he 
again  spent  three  months  there  at  the  time  of  Georges* 
conspiracy.  For  the  last  two  years,  whilst  waiting 
for  a  fresh  engagement,  he  had  lived  on  a  small  pen- 
sion from  the  royal  treasury,  and  when  funds  were 
low,  he  made  one  of  his  more  fortunate  companions 
in  old  days  put  him  up  ;  and  thus  he  roamed  from 
Caen  to  Falaise,  from  Mortain  to  Bayeux  or  Saint- 
L6,  even   going    into   Mayennc   in    his   wanderings. 


90    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

Although  he  would  never  have  acknowledged  it,  we 
may  say  that  he  was  one  of  the  men  usually  em- 
ployed in  attacking  public  vehicles :  in  fact,  he  was 
an  adept  at  it  and  went  by  the  name  of  the  "  Teisch." 

Summoned  to  La  Bijude  he  presented  himself  there 
one  morning  towards  the  end  of  October.  D'Ache 
arrived  there  the  same  evening  while  they  were  at 
dinner.  They  talked  rather  vaguely  of  the  great 
project,  but  much  of  their  old  Chouan  comrades.  In 
spite  of  his  decided  German  accent  Flierle  was  inex- 
haustible on  this  theme.  He  and  d'Ache  slept  in  the 
same  room,  and  this  intimacy  lasted  two  whole  days, 
at  the  end  of  which  it  was  decided  that  Flierle  should 
be  employed  as  a  messenger  at  a  salary  of  fifty 
crowns  a  month.  That  same  night,  Lanoe  con- 
ducted d'Ache  two  leagues  from  La  Bijude  and  left 
him  on  the  road  to  Arjentan. 

Here  is  a  new  landmark :  on  November  26th, 
Veyrat,  the  inspector  of  police,  hastily  informed 
Desmarets  that  d'Ache,  whom  they  had  been  seeking 
for  two  years,  had  arrived  the  night  before  in  Paris, 
getting  out  of  the  coach  from  Rennes  in  the  company 
of  a  man  named  Durand.  The  latter,  leaving  his 
trunk  at  the  office,  spent  the  night  at  a  house  in  the 
Rue  Montmartre,  whence  he  departed  the  next  morn- 
ing for  Boulogne.  As  for  d'Ache,  wrote  Veyrat,  he 
had  neither  box  nor  parcel,  and  disappeared  as  soon 
as  he  got  out  of  the  carriage.  Search  was  made  in 
all  the  furnished  lodgings  and  hotels  in  the  neighbour- 
hood, but  without  result.  Desmarets  set  all  his  best 
men  to  work,  but  in  vain  :  d'Ache  was  not  to  be  found. 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  D'ACHfi      91 

He  was  at  Tournebut,  where  he  spent  a  month. 
It  is  probable  that  a  pressing  need  of  money  was  the 
cause  of  this  journey  to  Paris  and  his  visit  to  Mme. 
de  Combray.  By  this  time  d'Ache  had  exhausted  his 
credit  at  the  banker  Nourry's.  Believing  that  this 
source  would  never  be  exhausted,  he  had  drawn  on  it 
largely.  His  disappointment  was  therefore  cruel 
when  he  heard  that  his  account  was  definitely  closed. 
He  found  himself  again  without  money,  and  by  a 
coincidence  which  must  be  mentioned,  the  diligence 
from  Paris  to  Rouen  was  robbed,  during  his  stay  at 
Tournebut,  in  November,  1806,  at  the  Mill  of  Mon- 
flaines,  about  a  hundred  yards  from  Authevernes, 
where  the  preceding  attacks  had  taken  place.  The 
booty  was  not  large  this  time,  and  when  d'Ache  again 
took  the  road  to  Mandeville  his  resources  consisted  of 
six  hundred  francs. 

He  was  obliged  to  spend  the  winter  in  torturing 
idleness;  there  is  no  indication  of  his  movements 
till  February,  1807.  The  time  fixed  for  the  great 
events  was  drawing  near,  and  it  was  important  to 
make  them  known.  He  decided  on  the  plan  of  a 
manifesto  which  was  to  be  widely  circulated  through 
the  whole  province,  and  would  not  allow  any  one  to 
assist  in  drawing  it  up.  This  proclamation,  written 
in  the  name  of  the  princes,  stipulated  a  general 
amnesty,  the  retention  of  those  in  authority,  a  re- 
duction of  taxation,  and  the  abolition  of  conscription. 
Lanoe,  summoned  to  Mandeville,  received  ten  louis 
and  the  manuscript  of  the  manifesto,  with  the  order 
to  get  it  printed  as  secretly  as  possible.     The  crafty 


92     THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

Norman  promised,  slipped  the  paper  into  the  lining 
of  his  coat,  and  after  a  fruitless — and  probably  very 
feeble — attempt  on  a  printer's  apprentice  at  Falaise, 
returned  it  to  Flierle,  with  many  admonitions  to  be 
prudent,  but  only  refunded  five  louis.  Flierle  first 
applied  to  a  bookseller  in  the  Froide  Rue  at  Caen. 
The  latter,  as  soon  as  he  found  out  what  it  contained, 
refused  his  assistance. 

An  incident  now  occurred,  the  importance  of  which 
it  is  difficult  to  discover,  but  which  seems  to  have 
been  great,  to  judge  from  the  mystery  in  which  it  is 
shrouded.  Whether  he  had  received  some  urgent 
communication  from  England,  or  whether,  in  his 
state  of  destitution,  he  had  thought  of  claiming  the 
help  of  his  friends  at  Tournebut,  d'Ache  despatched 
Flierle  to  Mme.  de  Combray,  and  gave  him  two 
letters,  advising  him  to  use  the  greatest  discretion. 
Flierle  set  out  on  horseback  from  Caen  in  the  morn- 
ing of  March  13th.  At  dawn  next  day  he  arrived  at 
Rouen,  and  immediately  repaired  to  the  house  of  a 
Mme.  Lambert,  a  milliner  in  the  Rue  de  THopital,  to 
whom  one  of  the  letters  was  addressed.  "  I  gave  it 
to  her,"  he  said,  "  on  her  staircase,  without  speaking 
to  her,  as  I  had  been  told  to  do,  and  set  out  that  very 
morning  for  Tournebut,  where  I  arrived  between  two 
and  three  o'clock.  I  gave  Mme.  de  Combray  the 
other  letter,  which  she  threw  in  the  fire  after  having 
read  it." 

Flierle  slept  at  the  chateau.  Next  day  Bonnceil 
conducted  him  to  Louviers,  and  there  intrusted  a 
packet  of  letters  to  him  addressed  to  d'Ache.     Both 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  D'ACHE      93 

directed  their  steps  to  Rouen,  and  the  German  fetched 
from  the  Rue  de  THopital,  the  milliner's  reply,  which 
she  gave  him  herself  without  saying  a  word. 

He  immediately  continued  his  journey,  and  by 
March  20th  was  back  at  Mandeville,  and  placed  the 
precious  mail  in  d'Ache's  hands.  The  latter  had 
scarcely  read  it  before  he  sent  David  word  to  get  his 
boat  ready,  and  without  losing  a  moment,  the  letters 
which  had  arrived  from  Rouen  were  taken  out  to  sea 
to  the  English  fleet,  to  be  forwarded  to  London. 

We  are  still  ignorant  of  the  contents  of  these 
mysterious  despatches,  and  inquiry  on  this  point  is 
reduced  to  supposition.  Some  pretended  that  d'Ache 
sent  the  manifesto  to  Mme.  de  Combray,  and  that  it 
was  clandestinely  printed  in  the  cellars  at  Tournebut ; 
others  maintain  that  towards  March  15th  BonncEil 
returned  from  Paris,  bringing  with  him  the  corre- 
spondence of  the  secret  royalist  committee  which  was 
to  be  sent  to  the  English  Cabinet  via  Mandeville. 
D'Ache  certainly  attached  immense  importance  to 
this  expedition,  which  ought,  according  to  him,  to 
make  the  princes  decide  on  the  immediate  despatch 
of  funds,  and  to  hasten  the  preparation  for  the  attack 
on  the  island  of  Tahitou.  But  days  passed  and  no 
reply  came.  In  the  agony  of  uncertainty  he  decided 
to  approach  Le  Chevalier,  whom  he  only  knew  by 
reputation  as  being  a  shrewd  and  resolute  man.  The 
meeting  took  place  at  Trevieres  towards  the  middle 
of  April,  1807.  Le  Chevalier  brought  one  of  his 
aides-de-camp  with  him,  but  d'Ache  came  alone. 

The  names  of  these  two  men  are  so  little  known, 


94    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

they  occupy  such  a  very  humble  place  in  history,  that 
we  can  hardly  imagine,  now  that  we  know  how 
pitifully  their  dreams  miscarried,  how  without  being 
ridiculous  they  could  fancy  that  any  result  whatever 
could  come  of  their  meeting.  The  surroundings 
made  them  consider  themselves  important :  d'Ache 
was — or  thought  he  was — the  mouthpiece  of  the 
exiled  King  ;  as  for  Le  Chevalier,  whether  from  vain- 
glory or  credulity  he  boasted  of  an  immense  popu- 
larity with  the  Chouans,  and  spoke  mysteriously  of 
the  royalist  committee  which,  working  in  Paris,  had 
succeeded,  he  said,  in  rallying  to  the  cause  men  of 
considerable  importance  in  the  entourage  of  the  Em- 
peror himself. 

Since  he  had  been  Mme.  Acquet's  adored  lover,  Le 
Chevalier's  visits  to  the  Cafe  Hervieux  had  become 
rarer;  his  parasites  had  dispersed,  and  although  he 
still  kept  up  his  house  in  the  Rue  Saint-Sauveur  at 
Caen,  he  spent  the  greater  part  of  his  time  either  at 
Falaise  or  at  La  Bijude,  where  his  devoted  mistress 
alternately  lived.  The  police  of  Count  Cafterelli, 
Prefect  of  Calvados,  had  ceased  keeping  an  eye  on 
him,  and  he  even  received  a  passport  for  Paris, 
whither  he  went  frequently.  He  always  returned 
more  confident  than  before,  and  in  the  little  group 
amongst  whom  he  lived  at  Falaise — consisting  of  his 
cousin,  Dusaussay,  two  Chouan  comrades,  Beaupaire 
and  Desmontis ;  a  doctor  in  the  Frotte  army.  Rev- 
erend; and  the  Notary  of  the  Combray  family, 
Maitre  Febrc — he  was  never  tired  of  talking  in 
confidence  about  the  secret  Royalist  Committee,  and 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  D^ACHE      95 

the  near  approach  of  the  Restoration.  The  revolu- 
tion which  was  to  bring  it  about,  was  to  be  a  very 
peaceful  one,  according  to  him.  Bonaparte,  taken 
prisoner  by  two  of  his  generals,  each  at  the  head  of 
40,000  men,  was  to  be  handed  over  to  the  English 
and  replaced  by  "  a  regency,  the  members  of  which 
were  to  be  chosen  from  among  the  senators  who 
could  be  trusted."  The  Comte  d'Artois  was  then  to 
be  recalled — or  his  son,  the  Due  de  Berry — to  take 
possession  of  the  kingdom  as  Lieutenant-General. 

Did  Le  Chevalier  believe  in  this  Utopia  ?  It  has 
been  said  that  in  propagating  it  "  he  only  sought  to 
intoxicate  the  people  and  excite  them  to  acts  of  pil- 
lage, the  profits  of  which  would  come  to  him  without 
any  of  the  danger."  This  accusation  fits  in  badly 
with  the  chivalrous  loyalty  of  his  character.  It 
seems  more  probable  that  on  one  of  his  journeys  to 
Paris  he  fell  into  the  trap  set  by  the  spy  Perlet  who, 
paid  by  the  princes  to  be  their  chief  intelligence 
agent,  sold  their  correspondence  to  Fouche  and 
handed  over  to  the  police  the  royalists  who  brought 
the  letters.  This  Perlet  had  invented,  as  a  bait  for 
his  trap,  a  committee  of  powerful  persons  who,  he 
boasted,  he  had  won  over  to  the  royal  cause,  and 
doubtless  Le  Chevalier  was  one  of  his  only  too 
numerous  victims.  Whatever  it  was,  Le  Chevalier 
took  a  pride  in  his  high  commissions,  and  went  to 
meet  d'Ache  as  an  equal,  if  not  a  rival. 

At  the  beginning,  the  conference  was  more  than 
cold.  These  two  men,  so  different  in  appearance 
and  character,  both  aspired  to  play  a  great  part  and 


96    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

were  instinctively  jealous  of  each  other.  Their  own 
personal  feelings  divided  them.  One  was  the  lover 
of  Mme.  Acquet  de  Ferolles,  the  other  was  the 
friend  of  Mme.  de  Combray,  and  the  latter  blamed 
her  daughter  for  her  misconduct,  and  had  forbidden 
her  ever  to  come  back  to  Tournebut.  Le  Chevalier, 
after  the  usual  civilities,  refused  to  continue  the  con- 
versation till  he  was  informed  of  the  exact  nature  of 
the  powers  conferred  by  the  King  on  his  interlocutor, 
and  the  authority  with  which  he  was  invested.  Now, 
d'Ache  had  never  had  any  written  authority,  and 
arrogantly  intrenched  himself  behind  the  confidence 
which  the  princes  had  shown  in  him  from  the  very 
first  days  of  the  revolution.  He  stated  that  he  was 
expecting  a  regular  commission  from  them.  Where- 
upon Le  Chevalier,  seizing  the  advantage,  called  him 
an  "  agent  of  the  English,"  and  placing  his  pistols  on 
the  table  "  invited  him  to  blow  out  his  brains  imme- 
diately." They  both  grew  calmer,  however,  and  ex- 
plained their  plans.  Le  Chevalier  knew  most  of  the 
Norman  Chouans,  either  from  having  fought  by  their 
side,  or  from  having  made  their  acquaintance  in  the 
various  prisons  in  Caen  or  Evreux,  wherein  he  had 
been  confined.  He  therefore  undertook  the  enroll- 
ment and  management  of  the  army,  the  command  of 
which  he  would  assign  to  two  men  who  were  devoted 
to  him.  The  name  of  one  is  not  published ;  they 
say  he  was  .an  ex-chief  of  Staff  to  Charette.  The 
other  was  famous  through  the  whole  revolt  of  the 
Chouans  under  the  pseudonym  of  General  Antonio  j 
his   real  name  was   Allain,  and  he  had  been  working 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  D'ACHE      97 

with  Le  Chevalier  since  the  year  IX.  The  latter 
was  sure  also  of  the  cooperation  of  his  friend  M.  de 
Grimont,  manager  of  the  stud  at  Argentan,  who 
would  furnish  the  prince's  army  with  the  necessary 
cavalry  ;  besides  which  he  offered  to  go  to  Paris  for 
the  "  great  event,"  and  took  upon  himself  with  the 
assistance  of  certain  accomplices  "  to  secure  the  im- 
perial treasury."  D'Ache,  for  his  part,  was  to  go  to 
England  to  fetch  the  King,  and  was  to  preside  over 
the  disembarkation  and  lead  the  Russo-Swedish  army 
through  insurgent  Normandy  to  the  gates  of  the 
capital. 

Their  work  thus  assigned,  the  two  men  parted 
allies,  but  not  friends.  D'Ache  was  offended  at  Le 
Chevalier's  pretensions ;  the  latter  returning  to  Mme. 
Acquet,  did  not  disguise  the  fact  that,  in  his  opinion, 
d'Ache  was  nothing  but  a  common  intriguer  and  an 
agent  of  England. 

There  still  remained  the  question  of  money  which, 
for  the  moment,  took  precedence  of  all  others.  They 
had  agreed  that  it  was  necessary  to  pillage  the  coffers 
of  the  state  whilst  waiting  the  arrival  of  subsidies 
from  England,  but  neither  d'Ache  nor  Le  Chevalier 
expressed  himself  openly ;  each  wished  to  leave  the 
responsibility  of  the  theft  to  the  other.  Later,  they 
both  obstinately  rejected  it,  Le  Chevalier  affirming 
that  d'Ache  had  ordered  the  stopping  of  public  con- 
veyances in  the  King's  name,  while  d'Ache  disowned 
Le  Chevalier,  accusing  him  of  having  brought  the 
cause  into  disrepute  by  employing  such  means.  The 
dispute  is  of  little  interest.     The  money  was  lacking, 


98     THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

and  not  only  were  the  royal  coffers  empty,  but  what 
was  of  more  immediate  importance,  Le  Chevalier  and 
his  friends  were  without  resources.  In  consequence 
of  leading  a  wild  life  and  sacrificing  himself  for  his 
party,  he  had  spent  his  entire  fortune,  and  was  over- 
whelmed with  debts.  The  lawyer  Vanier,  who  was 
entrusted  with  the  management  of  his  business  affairs, 
lost  his  head  at  the  avalanche  of  bills,  protests  and 
notes  of  hand  which  poured  into  his  office,  and  which 
it  was  impossible  to  meet.  The  lawyer  Lefebre,  a  fat 
and  sensual  free-liver,  was  equally  low  in  funds,  and 
laid  on  the  government  the  blame  of  the  confusion 
into  which  his  affairs  had  fallen,  though  it  had  been 
entirely  his  own  fault.  As  for  Le  Chevalier  himself, 
he  attributed  his  ruin,  not  without  justice,  to  his  dis- 
interestedness and  devotion  to  the  royal  cause,  which 
was  his  excuse  for  the  past  and  the  future.  Mme. 
Acquet,  who  loved  him  blindly,  had  given  her  last 
louis  to  provide  for  his  costly  liberality.  Touching 
letters  from  her  are  extant,  proving  how  attached  she 
was  to  him : 

"  I  am  herewith  sending  you  a  letter  from  Mme. 
Blins  "  (a  creditor).  "  My  only  regret  is  that  I  have 
not  the  sum.  It  would  have  given  me  great  pleasure 
to  pay  it  for  you,  and  then  you  would  never  have 
known.  ...  I  love  you  with  all  my  heart.  I 
am  entirely  yours,  and  there  is  nothing  I  would  not 
do  for  you.  .  .  .  Love  me  as  I  love  you.  I 
embrace  you  tenderly." 

"  There  is  nothing  I  would  not  do  for  you," — and 
the  poor  woman  was  wretched  in  the  knowledge  that 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  D'ACHfi      99 

the  hero  whom  she  idolised  was  hampered  for  want 
of  small  sums  of  money.  She  could  not  ward  ofF  the 
trouble,  since  her  demand  for  a  separation  had  re- 
cently been  refused.  Acquet  was  triumphant.  She 
was  reduced  to  living  on  a  modest  pension  of  2,000 
francs,  and  not  able  to  sell  what  she  had  inherited 
from  her  father.  One  evening,  when  she  and  Lanoe 
were  alone  in  the  Hotel  de  Combray,  in  the  Rue  du 
Tripot  at  Falaise,  one  part  of  which  was  rented  to 
the  collector  of  taxes,  she  heard  through  the  wall  the 
chinking  of  the  money,  which  they  were  packing  into 
bags.  On  hearing  it  she  fell  into  a  sort  of  delirium, 
thinking  that  here  was  the  wherewithal  to  satisfy  her 
lover's  fancies.     ... 

"  Lanoe,"  she  said  suddenly,  "  I  must  have  some 
money ;  I  only  want  10,000  francs." 

The  terrified  Lanoe  gave  her  no  answer  then,  but 
a  few  days  later,  when  he  was  driving  her  back  in  her 
cabriolet  to  Falaise  from  La  Bijude,  she  returned  to 
the  charge,  and  gave  him  a  piece  of  yellow  wax 
vvrapped  up  in  cotton  telling  him  to  go  and  take  an 
impression  of  the  tax  collector's  lock  as  soon  as  they 
arrived  at  the  Rue  du  Tripot.  Lanoe  excused  him* 
self,  saying  that  the  house  belonged  to  M.  Timoleon, 
and  that  disagreeable  consequences  might  arise.  But 
she  insisted.  "  I  must  have  the  impression,"  she 
said.  "  I  do  not  tell  you  why  I  want  it,  but  I  will 
have  it."  Lanoe,  to  get  out  of  a  task  he  did  not 
like,  went  away  and  secretly  took  an  impression  of 
the  lock  of  the  hayloft.  A  key  was  made  by  this 
pattern,  and  when  night  came  the  Marquise  de  Com- 


lOo    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

bray's  daughter  stole  down — holding  her  breath  and 
walking  noiselessly — to  the  tax  collector's  office,  and 
vainly  tried  to  open  the  door. 

About  the  same  time  Le  Chevalier,  who  had  just 
returned  from  a  journey  to  Paris,  heard  from  the 
lawyer  Vanier,  who  was  quite  as  much  in  debt  as  his 
client,  that  the  pecuniary  situation  was  desperate. 
"  I  dread,"  wrote  Vanier,  "  the  accomplishment  of  the 
psalm  :  Unde  veniet  auxilium  nobis  quia  perimus." 
To  which  Le  Chevalier  replied,  as  he  invariably  did : 
"  In  six  weeks,  or  perhaps  less,  the  King  will  be 
again  on  his  throne.  Brighter  days  will  dawn,  and 
we  shall  have  good  posts.  Now  is  the  time  to  show 
our  zeal,  for  those  who  have  done  nothing  will,  as  is 
fair,  have  nothing  to  expect."  He  added  that  the 
hour  was  propitious,  "  since  Bonaparte  was  in  the 
middle  of  Germany  with  his  whole  army." 

He  loved  to  talk  this  way,  as  it  made  him  appear, 
as  it  were.  Napoleon's  rival,  raising  him  to  the  place 
he  held  in  his  own  imagination. 


CHAPTER  V 

THE  AFFAIR  OF  QUESNAY 

The  lawyer,  Lefebre,  of  high  stature,  with  broad 
shoulders  and  florid  complexion,  loved  to  dine  well, 
and  spent  his  time  between  billiards, "  Calvados  "  and 
perorations  in  the  cafes.  For  taking  this  part  in  the 
conspiracy  he  expected  a  fat  sinecure  on  the  return  of 
the  Bourbons,  in  recompense  for  his  devotion. 

Early  in  April,  1807,  Lefebre  and  Le  Chevalier 
were  dining  together  at  the  Hotel  du  Point-de-France 
at  Argentan.  They  had  found  Beaurepaire,  Des- 
montis  and  the  Cousin  Dusaussay  there ;  they  went 
to  the  cafe  and  stayed  there  several  hours.  Allain, 
called  General  Antonio,  whom  Le  Chevalier  had 
chosen  as  his  chief  lieutenant,  appeared  and  was  pre- 
sented to  the  others.  Allain  was  over  forty ;  he  had 
a  long  nose,  light  eyes,  a  face  pitted  with  smallpox, 
and  a  heavy  black  beard ;  the  manner  of  a  calm  and 
steady  bourgeois.  Le  Chevalier  took  a  playing  card, 
tore  half  of  it  ofF,  wrote  a  line  on  it  and  gave  it  to 
Allain,  saying,  "  This  will  admit  you."  They  talked 
awhile  in  the  embrasure  of  a  window,  and  the  lawyer 
caught  these  words :  "  Once  in  the  church,  you  will 
go  out  by  the  door  on  the  left,  and  there  find  a  lane ; 
it  is  there.     .     .     ." 

When  Allain  had  gone  Le  Chevalier  informed  his 


102     THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

friends  of  the  affair  on  hand.  At  the  approach  of 
each  term,  funds  were  passed  between  the  principal 
towns  of  the  department ;  from  Alen^on,  Saint-L6 
and  Evreux  money  was  sent  to  Caen,  but  these  ship- 
ments took  place  at  irregular  dates,  and  were  gener- 
ally accompanied  by  an  escort  of  gendarmes.  As  the 
carriage  which  took  the  funds  to  Alen^on  usually 
changed  horses  at  Argentan,  it  was  sufficient  to  know 
the  time  of  its  arrival  in  that  town  to  deduce  there- 
from the  hour  of  its  appearance  elsewhere.  Now  Le 
Chevalier  had  secured  the  cooperation  of  a  hostler 
named  Gauthier,  called  "  Boismale,"  who  was  bribed 
to  let  Dusaussay  know  when  the  carriage  started. 
Dusaussay  lived  at  Argentan,  and  by  starting  immedi- 
ately on  horseback,  he  could  easily  arrive  at  the  place 
where  the  conspirators  were  posted  several  hours 
before  the  carriage.  Allain  had  just  gone  to  find 
Boismale. 

When  he  returned  to  the  cafe,  he  gave  the  result 
of  his  efforts.  The  hostler  had  decided  to  help  Le 
Chevalier,  but  the  affair  would  probably  not  take 
place  for  six  weeks  or  two  months,  which  was  longer 
than  necessary  to  collect  the  little  troop  needed  for 
the  expedition.  The  roles  were  assigned  :  Allain  was 
to  recruit  men ;  the  lawyer  would  procure  guns 
wherewith  to  arm  them ;  and  besides  this  he  allowed 
Allain  to  use  a  house  in  the  Faubourg  Saint-Laurent 
de  Falaise,  which  he  was  commissioned  to  sell.  Here 
could  be  established  "  a  depot  for  arms  and  provi- 
sions," for  one  difficulty  was  to  lodge  and  feed  the  re- 
cruits  during  the  period   of  waiting.     Le  Chevalier 


THE  AFFAIR  OF  QUESNAY  103 

answered  for  the  assistance  of  Mme.  Acquct  de 
Ferolles,  whom  he  easily  persuaded  to  hide  the  men 
for  a  few  days  at  least ;  he  also  offered  as  a  meeting- 
place  his  house  in  the  Rue  de  Saint-Sauveur  at  Caen. 
The  chief  outlines  of  the  affair  being  thus  arranged, 
they  parted,  and  the  next  day  Allain  took  the  road, 
having  with  him  as  usual,  a  complete  surveyor's  out- 
fit, and  a  sort  of  diploma  as  "  engineer  "  which  served 
as  a  reference,  and  justified  his  continual  moves.  He 
was,  moreover,  a  typical  Chouan,  determined  and 
ready  for  anything,  as  able  to  command  a  troop  as  to 
track  gendarmes ;  bold  and  cunning,  he  knew  all  the 
malcontents  in  the  country,  and  could  insure  their 
obedience.  The  recruiting  of  this  troop,  armed, 
housed  and  provided  for  during  two  months,  roaming 
the  country,  hiding  in  the  woods,  leading  in  the  en- 
virons of  Caen  and  Falaise  the  existence  of  Mohicans, 
without  causing  astonishment  to  a  single  gendarme, 
and,  satisfied  with  having  enough  to  eat  and  to  drink, 
never  thinking  of  asking  what  was  required  of  them, 
is  beyond  belief.  And  it  was  in  the  most  brilliant 
year  of  the  imperial  regime,  at  the  apogee  of  the  much 
boasted  administration,  which  in  reality  was  so  hol- 
low. The  Chouans  had  sown  such  disorganisation 
in  the  West,  that  the  authorities  of  all  grades  found 
themselves  powerless  to  struggle  against  this  ever-re- 
curring epidemic.  Count  CafFarelli,  prefet  of  Cal- 
vados, in  his  desire  to  retain  his  office,  treated  the  re- 
fractories with  an  indolence  bordering  on  complicity, 
and  continued  to  send  Fouche  the  most  optimistic  re- 
ports of  the  excellent  temper  of  his  fellow-citizens 


104    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

and  their  inviolable  attachment  to  the  imperial  con- 
stitution. 

It  was  the  middle  of  April,  1807.  Allain  passed 
through  Caen,  where  he  joined  Flierle,  and  both  of 
them  hiding  by  day  and  marching  at  night,  gained  the 
borders  of  Brittany.  Allain  knew  where  to  find  men  j 
twenty-five  leagues  from  Caen,  in  the  department  of 
La  Manche,  some  way  from  any  highroad,  is  situated 
the  village  of  La  Mancelliere,  whose  men  were  all 
refractories.  General  Antonio,  who  was  very  popu- 
lar among  the  malcontents,  was  shown  the  house  of  a 
woman  named  Harel  whose  husband  had  joined  the 
sixty-third  brigade  in  the  year  VIH  and  deserted  six 
months  after,  "  overcome  by  the  desire  to  see  his  wife 
and  children."  His  story  resembled  many  others ;  con- 
scription was  repugnant  to  these  peasants  of  ancient 
France,  who  could  not  resign  themselves  to  losing 
sight  of  their  clock  tower ;  they  were  brave  enough 
and  ready  to  fight,  but  to  them,  the  immediate  enemy 
was  the  gendarmes,  the  "  Bleus,"  whom  they  saw  in 
their  villages  carrying  off  the  best  men,  and  they  felt 
no  animosity  against  the  Prussians  and  Austrians  who 
only  picked  a  quarrel  with  Bonaparte. 

As  he  came  with  an  offer  of  work  to  be  well  paid 
for,  Allain  was  well  received  by  Mme.  Harel,  who 
with  her  children  was  reduced  to  extreme  poverty.  It 
was  a  question,  he  said,  "  of  a  surveying  operation 
authorised  by  the  government."  Harel  came  out  of 
hiding  in  the  evening,  and  eagerly  accepted  his  old 
chiefs  proposition,  and  as  the  latter  needed  some 
strong  pole-carriers,  Harel  presented  two  friends  to 


THE  AFFAIR  OF  QUESNAY  105 

the  "  General  **  under  the  names  of  "  Grand-Charles  " 
and  "  Coeur-de-Roi."  Allain  completed  his  party  by 
the  enrollment  of  three  others,  Le  Hericcy,  called 
"  La  Sagesse  "  ;  Lebree,  called  "  Fleur  d'Epine  "  ; 
and  Le  Lorault,  called  "  La  Jeunesse."  They  drank 
a  cup  of  cider  together,  and  left  the  same  evening, 
Allain  and  Flierle  leading  them. 

In  six  stages  they  arrived  at  Caen,  and  Allain  took 
them  to  Le  Chevalier's  house  in  the  Rue  Saint  Sauveur. 
They  had  to  stay  there  three  ureeks.  They  were 
put  in  the  loft  on  some  hay,  and  Chalange,  Le 
Chevalier's  servant,  who  took  them  their  food,  always 
found  them  sleeping  or  playing  cards.  In  order  not 
to  awaken  the  suspicions  of  the  usual  tradespeople, 
Lerouge,  called  "  Bornet,"  formerly  a  baker,  under- 
took to  make  the  bread  for  the  house  in  the  Rue 
Saint-Sauveur.  One  day  he  brought  in  his  bread  cart 
four  guns  procured  by  Lefebre  ;  Harel  cleaned  them, 
took  them  to  pieces,  and  hid  them  in  a  bundle  of 
straw.  Then  the  guns  were  put  on  a  horse  which 
Lerouge  led  out  at  night  from  the  cellar  which  opened 
on  the  Rue  Quimcampoix  at  the  back  of  the  house. 
The  men  followed,  and  under  Allain's  guidance 
crossed  the  town ;  when  they  reached  the  extremity 
of  the  Faubourg  de  Vaucelles  they  stopped  and  dis- 
tributed the  arms.  Lerouge  went  back  to  town  with 
the  horse,  and  the  little  troop  disappeared  on  the  high- 
road. 

At  about  five  leagues  from  Caen,  after  having 
passed  Langannerie,  where  a  brigade  of  gendarmerie 
was  stationed,  the   Falaise   road   traverses  a  small  but 


io6     THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

dense  thicket  called  the  wood  of  Quesnay.  The  men 
stopped  there,  and  passed  a  whole  day  hidden  among 
the  trees.  The  following  night  Allain  led  them  a 
three  hours'  march  to  a  large  abandoned  house,  whose 
doors  were  open,  and  installed  them  in  the  loft  on 
some  hay.     This  was  the  Chateau  of  Donnay. 

Le  Chevalier  had  not  deceived  himself.  Mme. 
Acquet  had  received  his  suggestion  with  enthusiasm  j 
the  thought  that  she  would  be  useful  to  her  hero,  that 
she  would  share  his  danger,  blinded  her  to  all  other 
considerations.  She  had  offered  Allain  and  his  com- 
panions the  hospitality  of  Bijude,  without  any  fear  of 
compromising  her  lover,  who  made  long  sojourns 
there,  and  she  decided  on  the  audacious  plan  of  lodg- 
ing them  with  her  husband,  who,  inhabiting  a  wing 
of  the  Chateau  of  Donnay,  abandoned  the  main  body 
of  the  chateau,  which  could  be  entered  from  the  back 
without  being  seen.  Perhaps  she  hoped  to  throw  a 
suspicion  of  complicity  on  Acquet  if  the  retreat  should 
be  discovered.  As  to  Le  Chevalier,  learning  that 
d'Ache  had  just  left  Mandeville  and  gone  to  England 
"  after  having  announced  his  speedy  return  with  the 
prince,  with  munitions,  money,  etc.,"  he  left  for  Paris, 
having  certain  arrangements,  he  said,  to  make  with 
the  "  Comite  secret."  Before  quitting  La  Bijude,  he 
enjoined  his  mistress,  in  case  the  coup  should  be  made 
in  his  absence,  to  remit  the  money  seized  to  Dusaus- 
say,  who  would  bring  it  to  him  in  Paris  where  the 
committee  awaited  it.  She  gave  him  a  curl  of  her 
fine  black  hair  to  have  a  medallion  made  of  it,  and 
made  him  promise  "  that  he  would  not  forget  to  bring 


THE  AFFAIR  OF  QUESNAY         107 

her  some  good  eau-de-cologne."  They  then  em- 
braced each  other,  and  he  left.  It  was  May  17, 
1807,  and  this  was  the  last  time  she  saw  him. 

She  did  not  remain  idle,  but  herself  prepared  the 
food  of  the  seven  men  lodged  in  the  chateau. 
Bundles  of  hay  and  straw  served  them  for  beds ; 
they  were  advised  not  to  go  out,  even  for  the  most 
pressing  needs  and  they  stayed  there  ten  days.  Every 
evening  Mme.  Acquet  appeared  in  this  malodorous 
den,  holding  her  parasol  in  her  gloved  hands,  dressed 
m  a  light  muslin,  and  a  straw  hat.  She  was  usually 
accompanied  by  her  servant  Rosalie  Dupont,  a  big 
strong  girl,  and  Joseph  Buquet  a  shoemaker  at  Don- 
nay  both  carrying  large  earthen  plates  containing 
baked  veal  and  potatoes.  It  was  the  hour  of  kindli- 
ness and  good  cheer ;  the  chatelaine  did  not  disdain  to 
preside  at  the  repast,  coming  and  going  among  the 
unkempt  men,  asking  if  these  "  good  fellows  "  needed 
anything  and  were  satisfied  with  their  fare.  She  was 
the  most  impatient  of  all ;  whether  she  took  the  po- 
litical illusions  of  those  who  had  drawn  her  into  the 
affair  seriously,  and  was  anxious  to  expose  herself  for 
"  the  good  cause  " ;  whether  her  fatal  passion  for  La 
Chevalier  had  completely  blinded  her,  she  took  her 
share  in  the  attack  that  was  being  prepared,  which  it 
seemed  to  her,  would  put  an  end  to  all  her  misfor- 
tunes. She  had  already  committed  an  act  of  foolish 
boldness  in  receiving  and  keeping  Allain's  recruits  in 
a  house  occupied  by  her  husband,  and  in  daring  to 
visit  them  there  herself;  she  was  thus  compromising 
herself,  as   if  she   enjoyed   it,  under  the  eyes  of  her 


io8     THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

most  implacable  enemy,  and  no  doubt  Acquet,  in- 
formed by  his  well-trained  spies,  of  all  that  happened, 
refrained  from  intervention  for  fear  of  interrupting 
an  adventure  in  which  his  wife  must  lose  herself 
irremediably, 

Mme.  Acquet  also  behaved  as  if  she  was  certain 
of  the  complicity  of  the  whole  country ;  she  ar- 
ranged the  slightest  details  of  the  expedition  with 
astonishing  quickness  of  mind.  With  her  own  hands 
she  made  large  wallets  of  coarse  cloth,  to  carry  pro- 
visions for  the  party,  and  contain  the  money  taken 
from  the  chests.  She  hastened  to  Falaise  to  ask 
Lefebre  to  receive  Allain  and  Flierle  while  awaiting 
the  hour  of  action.  Lefebre  who  had  already  fixed 
his  price  and  exacted  a  promise  of  twelve  thousand 
francs  from  the  funds,  would  only,  however,  half 
commit  himself.  He  nevertheless  agreed  to  lodge 
Allain  and  Flierle  in  the  vacant  building  in  the  Fau- 
bourg Saint-Laurent.  Reassured  on  this  point  Mme. 
Acquet  returned  to  Donnay ;  during  the  night  of  28th 
May,  the  men  left  the  chateau  without  their  arms  and 
were  conducted  to  a  barn,  where  they  were  left  all 
day  alone  with  a  small  cask  of  cider  which  they  soon 
emptied.  Mme.  Acquet  was  meanwhile  preparing 
another  retreat  for  them.  A  short  way  from  the 
Church  of  Donnay  there  was  an  isolated  house  be- 
longing to  the  brothers  Buquet,  who  were  devoted  to 
the  Combrays  ;  Joseph,  the  shoemaker,  had  in  the 
absence  of  Le  Chevalier,  been  known  as  Mme. 
Acquet's  lover  in  the  village,  and  if  in  the  absence  of 
any  definite  testimony,  it  is  possible  to  save  this  poor 


THE  AFFAIR  OF  QUESNAY         109 

woman's  memory  from  this  new  accusation,  we  must 
still  recognise  the  fact  that  she  exercised  an  extraor- 
dinary influence  over  this  man.  He  submitted  to  her 
blindly  "by  the  rights  she  had  granted  him,"  said  a 
report  addressed  to  the  Emperor.  Whatever  the 
reason,  she  had  only  to  say  the  word  for  Joseph 
Buquet  to  give  her  his  house,  and  the  six  men  took 
possession  next  day.  The  Buquets'  mother  under- 
took to  feed  them  for  four  days  ;  they  left  her  at  dusk 
on  the  2d  June ;  Joseph  showed  them  the  road  and 
even  led  them  a  short  way. 

The  poor  fellows  dragged  along  till  morning,  los- 
ing themselves  often  and  not  daring  to  ask  the  way 
or  to  follow  beaten  tracks.  They  met  Allain  at 
dawn,  one  mile  from  Falaise,  on  the  edge  of  a  wood 
near  the  hamlet  of  Jalousie ;  he  took  them  across 
Aubigny  to  an  isolated  inn  at  the  end  of  the 
village. 

Lefebre  had  presented  Allain  to  the  innkeeper  the 
night  before,  asking  if  he  would  receive  "  six  honest 
deserters  whom  the  gendarmes  tormented,"  for  a  few 
days,  and  the  man  had  replied  that  he  would  lodge 
them  with  pleasure. 

As  soon  as  they  arrived  at  the  inn  Allain  and  his 
men,  dropping  with  fatigue,  asked  for  breakfast  and 
went  at  once  to  the  room  prepared  for  them.  It  was 
half  past  four  in  the  morning ;  they  lay  down  on  the 
straw  and  did  not  move  all  day  except  for  meals. 
The  night  and  all  next  day  passed  in  the  same  man- 
ner. On  Thursday  June  4th  they  put  some  bread, 
bacon  and  jugs  of  cider  in  their  wallets  and  left  about 


no    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

nine  in  the  evening.  On  Friday  Allain  appeared  at 
the  inn  of  Aubigny  alone ;  he  ordered  the  servant  to 
take  some  food  to  the  place  where  the  Caen  and  Har- 
court  roads  met.  Two  men  were  waiting  there,  who 
took  the  food  and  went  off  in  haste.  Allain  went  to 
bed  about  two  in  the  morning ;  about  midday  on 
Saturday  as  he  was  sitting  down  to  table  a  carriage 
stopped  at  the  inn  door;  Lefebre  and  Mme.  Acquet 
got  out.  They  brought  seven  guns  which  were 
carried  up  to  the  loft.  They  talked ;  Mme.  Acquet 
took  some  lemons  from  a  little  basket,  and  cut  them 
into  a  bowl  filled  with  white  wine  and  brandy,  and 
she  and  Lefebre  drank  while  consulting  together. 
The  heat  was  intolerable  and  all  three  were  overcome. 
Mme.  Acquet  had  to  be  helped  to  her  carriage  and 
Lefebre  undertook  to  conduct  her  to  Falaise.  Allain, 
left  alone  at  Aubigny,  ordered  supper  "  for  six  or 
seven  persons."  He  was  attending  to  its  preparation 
when  a  horseman  appeared  and  asked  to  speak  with 
him.  It  was  Dusaussay  who  brought  news.  He 
had  come  straight  from  Argentan  where  he  had  seen 
the  coach,  laden  with  chests  of  silver,  enter  the  yard 
of  the  inn  of  Point-de-France ;  he  described  the 
waggon,  the  harness  and  the  driver,  then  remounted 
and  rode  rapidly  away.  Just  then  the  entire  band  re- 
appeared, led  by  Flierle.  Arms  were  distributed,  and 
the  men  stood  round  the  table  eating  hastily.  They 
filled  their  wallets  with  bread  and  cold  meat  and  left 
at  night.  Allain  and  Flierle  accompanied  them  and 
returned  to  the  inn  after  two  hours'  absence.  They 
did  not  sleep ;  they  were  heard  pacing  heavily  up  and 


THE  AFFAIR  OF  QUESNAY         iii 

down  the  loft  until  daylight.  On  Sunday,  June  7, 
Allain  paid  the  reckoning,  bought  a  short  axe  and  an 
old  gun  from  the  innkeeper,  making  eight  guns  in 
all  at  the  disposal  of  the  band.  At  seven  in  the 
morning  he  left  with  Flierle,  and  three  leagues  from 
there,  arrived  at  the  wood  of  Quesnay  where  his  men 
had  passed  the  night. 

The  waggon  destined  for  the  transportation  of  the 
funds  had  been  loaded  on  the  5th  at  Alen^on,  in  the 
yard  of  the  house  of  M.  Decres,  receiver-general  of 
the  Orne,  with  five  heavy  chests  containing  33,489 
francs,  92  centimes.  On  the  6th,  the  carrier,  Jean 
Gousset,  employed  by  the  manager  of  stage  coaches 
at  Alen^on,  had  harnessed  three  horses  to  it,  and 
escorted  by  two  gendarmes  had  taken  the  road  to 
Argentan,  where  he  arrived  at  five  in  the  evening. 
He  stopped  at  Point-de-France,  where  he  had  to  take 
a  sixth  chest  containing  33,000  francs,  which  was 
delivered  in  the  evening  by  the  agents  of  M.  Larroc, 
receiver  of  finances.  The  carriage,  carefully  covered, 
remained  in  the  inn  yard  during  the  night.  Gousset, 
who  had  been  drinking,  went  to  and  fro  "  talking  to 
every  one  of  his  charge  "  ;  he  even  called  a  traveller, 
M.  Lapeyriere,  and  winking  at  the  chest  that  was 
being  hoisted  on  the  waggon,  said:  "  If  we  each  had 
ten  times  as  much  our  fortunes  would  be  made."  He 
harnessed  up  at  four  o'clock  on  Sunday,  the  7th.  He 
had  been  given  a  fourth  horse,  and  three  gendarmes 
accompanied  him.  They  made  the  five  leagues  be- 
tween Argentan  and  Falaise  rather  slowly,  arriving 
about  half  past  ten.     Gousset  stopped  with  Bertaine 


112     THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

at  the  "  Cheval  Noir,"  where  the  gendarmes  left 
him ;  he  dined  there,  and  as  it  was  very  hot,  rested 
till  three  in  the  afternoon,  during  which  time  the 
waggon  stayed  in  front  of  the  inn  unguarded.  It  was 
noticed  that  the  horses  were  harnessed  three  hours 
before  starting,  and  the  conclusion  was  drawn  that 
Gousset  did  not  want  to  arrive  before  night  at 
Langannerie,  where  he  would  sleep.  In  fact,  he  took 
his  time.  At  a  quarter  past  three  he  started,  without 
escort,  as  all  the  men  of  the  brigade  of  Falaise  were 
employed  in  the  recruiting  that  took  place  that  day. 
As  he  left  the  village  he  chanced  to  meet  Vinchon, 
gendarme  of  the  brigade  of  Langannerie,  who  was 
returning  home  on  foot  with  his  nephew,  a  young  boy 
of  seventeen,  named  Antoine  Morin.  They  engaged 
in  conversation  with  the  carrier,  who  walked  on  the 
left  of  the  waggon,  and  went  with  him.  These 
chance  companions  were  in  no  hurry,  and  Gousset 
did  not  appear  to  be  in  any  haste  to  arrive.  At  the 
last  houses  of  the  suburbs  he  offered  some  cider; 
after  some  hundred  yards  the  gendarme  returned  the 
compliment  and  they  stopped  at  the  "  Sauvage."  A 
league  further,  another  stop  was  made  at  the  "  Vieille 
Cave."  Gousset  then  proposed  a  game  of  skittles, 
which  the  gendarme  and  Morin  accepted.  It  was 
nearly  seven  in  the  evening  when  they  passed  Potigny. 
The  evening  was  magnificent  and  the  sun  still  high 
on  the  horizon;  as  they  knew  they  would  not  see 
another  inn  until  the  next  stage  was  reached,  they 
made  a  fourth  stop  there.  At  last  Gousset  and  his 
companions    started    again ;    they    could    now    reach 


THE  AFFAIR  OF  QUESNAY         113 

Langannerie  in  an  hour,  where  they  would  stop  for 
the  night. 

The  evening  before,  Mme.  Acquet  de  Ferolles, 
returning  to  Falaise  with  Lefebre,  had  gone  to  bed 
more  sick  with  fatigue  than  drink  ;  however,  she  had 
returned  to  Donnay  at  dawn  in  the  fear  that  her 
absence  might  awaken  suspicion.  This  Sunday, 
the  7th  June,  was  indeed  the  Fete-Dieu,  and  she 
must  decorate  the  wayside  altars  as  she  did  each 
year. 

Lanoe,  who  had  arrived  the  evening  before  from 
his  farm  at  Glatigny,  worked  all  the  morning  hanging 
up  draperies,  and  covering  the  walls  with  green 
branches.  Mme.  Acquet  directed  the  arrangements 
for  the  procession  with  feverish  excitement,  filling 
baskets  with  rose  leaves,  grouping  children,  placing 
garlands.  Doubtless  her  thoughts  flew  from  this 
flowery  fete  to  the  wood  yonder,  where  at  this 
minute  the  men  whom  she  had  incited  waited  under 
the  trees,  gun  in  hand.  Perhaps  she  felt  a  perverse 
pleasure  in  the  contrast  between  the  hymns  sung 
among  the  hedges  and  the  criminal  anxiety  that 
wrung  her.  Did  she  not  confess  later  that  in  the 
confusion  of  her  mind  she  had  not  feared  to  call  on 
God  for  the  success  of  "  her  enterprise"  ? 

When,  about  five  o'clock,  the  procession  was  at  an 
end,  Mme.  Acquet  went  through  the  rose-strewn 
streets  to  find  her  confidante,  Rosalie  Dupont.  Such 
was  her  impatience  that  she  soon  left  this  girl, 
irresistibly  drawn  to  the  road  where  her  own  fate  and 


114    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

that  of  her  lover  were  being  decided.  Lanoe,  who 
was  returning  to  Glatigny  in  the  evening,  was  sur- 
prised to  meet  the  chatelaine  of  La  Bijude  in  a  little 
wood  near  Clair-Tizon.  She  was  scarcely  a  league 
from  the  place  where  the  men  were  hidden.  From 
her  secluded  spot  she  could,  with  beating  heart, 
motionless  and  mute  with  anguish,  hear  the  noise  of 
shooting,  which  rung  out  clear  in  the  silence  of 
the  summer  evening.  It  was  exactly  a  quarter  to 
eight. 

The  waggon  had,  indeed,  left  Potigny  at  seven 
o'clock.  A  little  way  from  the  village,  the  road, 
which  had  been  quite  straight  for  six  leagues,  de- 
scended a  low  hill  at  the  foot  of  which  is  the  wood  of 
Quesnay,  a  low  thicket  of  hazel,  topped  by  a  few 
oaks.  Allain  had  posted  his  men  along  the  road 
under  the  branches  j  on  the  edge  of  the  wood  towards 
Falaise  stood  p'licrle,  Le  Hericey,  and  Fleur  d'fipine. 
Allain  himself  was  with  Harel  and  Coeur-le-Roi,  at 
the  end  nearest  Langannerie.  Grand-Charles  and 
Le  Lorault  were  placed  in  the  middle  of  the  wood  at 
equal  distances  from  these  two  groups. 

The  eight  men  had  waited  since  midday  for  the 
appearance  of  the  treasure.  They  began  to  lose 
patience  and  spoke  of  returning  to  Aubigny  for  supper 
when  they  heard  the  rumbling  of  the  waggon  descend- 
ing the  hill.  It  came  down  rapidly,  Gousset  not 
having  troubled  to  put  on  the  brake.  They  could  hear 
him  shouting  to  the  horses.  Walking  on  the  left  of 
the  waggon  he  drove  them  by  means  of  a  long  rope; 


THE  AFFAIR  OF  QUESNAY         115 

his  little  dog  trotted  beside  him.  Vinchon  and  Morin 
were,  for  the  moment,  left  behind  by  the  increased 
speed  of  the  waggon.  The  men  at  the  first  and 
second  posts  allowed  it  to  pass  without  appearing  ;  it 
was  now  between  the  two  thickets  through  which  the 
road  ran ;  in  a  few  minutes  it  attained  the  edge  of  the 
wood  near  Langannerie,  when  suddenly,  Gousset  saw 
a  man  in  a  long  greatcoat  and  top-boots  in  the  middle 
of  the  road,  with  his  gun  pointed  at  him  ;  it  was 
Allain. 

"  Halt,  you  rascal !  "  he  cried  to  the  carrier. 

Two  of  his  companions,  attired  only  in  drawers 
and  shirt,  with  a  coloured  handkerchief  knotted  round 
the  head,  came  out  of  the  wood,  shouldered  arms  and 
took  aim.  With  a  tremendous  effort,  Gousset,  seized 
with  terror,  turned  the  whole  team  to  the  left,  and 
with  oaths  and  blows  flung  it  on  to  a  country  road 
which  crossed  the  main  road  obliquely  a  little  way 
from  the  end  of  the  wood.  But  in  an  instant  the 
three  men  were  upon  him ;  they  threw  him  down  and 
held  a  gun  to  his  head  while  two  others  came  out  of 
the  wood  and  seized  the  horses'  heads.  The  strug- 
gle was  short;  they  tore  off  Gousset's  cravat  and 
bound  his  eyes  with  it,  he  was  searched  and  his  knife 
taken,  then  cuffed,  pushed  into  the  wood  and  prom- 
ised a  ball  if  he  moved. 

But  Vinchon  and  Morin,  who  were  behind,  had 
seen  the  waggon  disappear  in  the  wood.  Morin,  not 
caring  to  join  in  the  scuffle,  hurried  across  the  fields, 
turned  the  edge  of  the  wood,  and  ran  towards  Langan- 
nerie  to   inform  the  gendarmes.      Vinchon,   on   the 


ii6     THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

contrary,  drew  his  sabre  and  advanced  towards  the 
road,  but  he  had  only  taken  a  few  steps  when  he  re- 
ceived a  triple  discharge  from  the  first  post.  He  fell, 
with  a  ball  in  his  shoulder,  and  rolled  in  the  ditch,  his 
blood  flowing.  The  men  then  hastened  to  the 
waggon  j  they  cut  the  cords  of  the  tarpaulin  with 
Gousset's  knife,  uncovered  the  chests  and  attacked 
them  with  hatchets.  Whilst  two  of  the  brigands  un- 
harnessed the  horses,  the  others  flung  the  money, 
handfuls  of  gold  and  crowns,  pell-mell  into  their 
sacks.  The  first  one,  bursting  with  silver,  was  so 
heavy  that  it  took  three  men  to  hoist  it  on  to  the 
back  of  a  horse;  Gousset  himself,  in  spite  of  his 
bandaged  eyes,  was  invited  to  lend  a  hand  and  obeyed 
gropingly.  They  were  smashing  the  second  chest 
when  the  cry,  "  To  arms  !  "  interrupted  them.  Allain 
rallied  his  men,  and  lined  them  up  along  the  road. 

Morin,  on  arriving  at  Langannerie  had  only  found 
the  corporal  and  one  other  gendarme  there;  they 
mounted  immediately  and  galloped  to  the  wood  of 
Quesnay.  It  was  almost  night  when  they  reached 
the  edge  of  the  wood.  A  volley  of  shots  greeted 
them ;  the  corporal  was  hit  in  the  leg,  and  his  horse 
fell  mortally  wounded ;  his  companion,  who  was  deaf, 
did  not  know  which  way  to  turn.  Seeing  his  chief 
fall,  he  thought  it  best  to  retreat ;  and  ran  to  the 
hamlet  of  Quesnay  to  get  help.  The  noise  of  the 
firing  had  already  alarmed  the  neighbourhood ;  the 
tocsin  sounded  at  Potigny,  Ouilly-le-Tesson  and 
Sousmont ;  peasants  flocked  to  each  end  of  the  wood, 
but  they  were  unarmed  and  dared  not  advance.     Al- 


THE  AFFAIR  OF  QUESNAY         117 

lain  had  posted  five  of  his  men  as  advance-guard  vtrho 
fired  in  the  thicket  at  their  ovi^n  discretion,  and  kept 
the  most  determined  of  the  enemy  at  bay.  Behind 
this  curtain  of  shooters  the  noise  could  be  heard  of 
axes  breaking  open  chests,  planks  torn  apart  and  oaths 
of  the  brigands  in  haste  to  complete  their  pillage. 
This  extraordinary  scene  lasted  nearly  an  hour.  At 
last,  at  a  call,  the  firing  ceased,  the  robbers  plunged 
into  the  thicket,  and  the  steps  of  the  heavily-laden 
horse,  urged  on  by  the  men,  were  heard  disappearing 
on  the  crossroad. 

They  took  the  road  to  Ussy,  with  their  booty  and 
the  carrier  Gousset,  still  with  his  eyes  bandaged  and 
led  by  Grand-Charles.  They  travelled  fast,  at  night 
— to  avoid  pursuit.  Less  than  half  a  league  from 
Quesnay  the  road  they  followed  passed  the  hamlet  of 
Aisy,  on  the  outskirts  of  Sousmont,  whose  mayor  had 
a  chateau  there.  He  was  called  M.  Dupont  d*Aisy, 
and  had  this  very  evening  entertained  Captain  Pinte- 
ville,  commander  of  the  gendarmerie  of  the  district. 
The  party  had  been  broken  up  by  the  distant  noise  of 
shooting.  M.  Dupont  at  once  sent  his  servants  to 
give  the  alarm  at  Sousmont ;  in  less  than  an  hour  he 
had  mustered  thirty  villagers  and  putting  himself  at 
their  head  with  Captain  Pinteville  he  marched  towards 
Quesnay.  They  had  not  gone  a  hundred  paces  when 
they  encountered  Allain's  men,  and  the  fight  began. 
The  brigands  kept  up  a  well-sustained  fire,  which 
produced  no  other  effect  than  to  disperse  the  peasants. 
Dupont  d*Aisy  and  Captain  Pinteville  himself  con- 
sidered it  dangerous  to  continue  the  struggle  against 


ii8     THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

such  determined  adversaries ;  they  retired  their  men, 
and  resolutely  turning  their  backs  to  the  enemy  re- 
treated towards  Quesnay. 

When  they  arrived  in  the  wood  a  crowd  was  al- 
ready there;  from  the  neighbouring  villages  where 
the  tocsin  still  sounded,  people  came,  drawn  entirely 
by  curiosity.  They  laughed  at  the  fine  trick  played 
on  the  government,  they  thought  the  affair  well  man- 
aged, and  did  not  hesitate  to  applaud  its  success. 
They  surrounded  the  waggon,  half-sunk  in  the  ruts  in 
the  road,  and  searched  the  little  wood  for  traces  of  the 
combat. 

The  arrival  of  the  mayor  and  Captain  Pinteville 
restored  things  to  order  somewhat.  They  had 
brought  lanterns,  and  in  the  presence  of  the  gen- 
darmes who  had  now  arrived  in  numbers,  the  peasants 
collected  the  remains  of  the  chests,  and  replaced  in 
them  the  coppers  that  the  robbers  had  scornfully 
thrown  in  the  grass.  They  found  the  carrier's 
leather  portfolio  containing  the  two  bills  of  lading,  in 
the  thicket,  and  learned  therefrom  that  the  govern- 
ment had  lost  a  little  over  60,000  francs,  and  in  face 
of  this  respectable  sum,  their  respect  for  the  men  who 
had  done  the  deed  increased.  In  the  densest  part  of 
the  wood  they  found  a  sort  of  hut  made  of  branches, 
and  containing  bones,  empty  bottles  and  glasses,  and 
the  legend  immediately  grew  that  the  brigands  had 
lived  there  "  for  weeks,"  waiting  for  a  profitable  oc- 
casion. Those  who  had  taken  part  in  the  fight  from 
a  distance  described  "  these  gentlemen,"  who  num- 
bered twelve,  they  said ;    three  wore  grey   overcoats 


THE  AFFAIR  OF  QUESNAY         119 

and  top-boots  ;  another  witness  had  been  struck  "  by 
the  exceeding  smallness  of  two  of  the  brigands." 

At  last,  the  money  collected  and  put  in  the  chests, 
they  harnessed  two  horses  to  the  waggon  and  took  it  to 
the  mayor's.  He  was  now  unsparing  of  attention; 
he  did  not  leave  the  waggon  which  was  put  in  his  yard, 
and  locked  up  the  broken  chests  and  money  which 
amounted  to  5,404  francs.  And  when  M.  le  Comte 
CafFarelli,  prefet  of  Calvados  arrived  at  dawn,  he 
was  received  by  Dupont-d'Aisy,  and  after  having 
heard  all  the  witnesses  and  received  all  information 
possible,  he  sent  the  minister  of  police  one  of  the 
optimistic  reports  that  he  prepared  with  so  much 
assurance.  In  this  one  he  informed  his  Excellency 
that  "after  making  examination  the  shipment  had 
been  found  intact,  except  the  chests  containing  the 
government  money."  M.  CafFarelli  knew  to  perfec- 
tion the  delicate  art  of  administrative  correspondence 
and  with  a  great  deal  of  cool  water,  could  slip  in  the 
gilded  pill  of  disagreeable  truth. 

This  model  functionary  spent  the  day  at  Aisy  wait- 
ing for  news  ;  the  peasants  and  gendarmes  scoured 
the  country  with  precaution,  for,  since  the  night,  the 
legend  had  grown  and  it  was  told,  not  without  fear, 
how  M.  Dupont  d'Aisy  had  courageously  given  battle 
to  an  army  of  brigands.  About  midday  the  searchers 
returned  leading  the  four  horses  which  they  had  found 
tied  to  a  hedge  near  the  village  of  Placy,  and  poor 
Gousset  who  was  found  calmly  seated  in  the  shade 
of  a  tree  near  a  wheat-field.  He  said  that  the  band 
had  left  him   there  very  early  in  the   morning  after 


120    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

having  made  him  march  all  night  with  bandaged  eyes. 
At  the  end  of  an  hour  and  a  half,  hearing  nothing,  he 
had  ventured  to  unfasten  the  bandage,  and  not  knovi^- 
ing  the  country,  had  vi^aited  till  some  one  came  to 
seek  him.  He  could  give  no  information  respecting 
the  robbers,  except  that  they  marched  very  fast  and 
gave  him  terrible  blows.  M.  CafFarelli  commiserated 
the  poor  man  heartily,  charged  him  to  take  the  waggon 
and  smashed  chests  back  to  Caen,  then,  after  having 
warmly  congratulated  M.  Dupont  d'Aisy  on  his  fine 
conduct,  he  returned  home. 

After  the  scuffle  at  Aisy,  Allain  and  his  companions 
had  marched  in  haste  to  Donnay,  but  missed  their 
way.  Crossing  the  village  of  Saint-Germain-Ie- 
Vasson,  they  seized  a  young  miller  who  was  taking  the 
air  on  his  doorstep,  and  who  consented  to  guide  them, 
though  very  much  afraid  of  this  band  of  armed  men 
with  heavily-laden  wallets.  He  led  them  as  far  as 
Acqueville  and  Allain  sent  him  away  with  ten  crowns. 
It  was  nearly  midnight  when  they  reached  Donnay ; 
they  passed  behind  the  chateau  where  Joseph  Buquet 
was  waiting  for  them  and  led  them  to  his  house.  He 
and  his  brother  made  the  eight  men  enter,  enjoined 
silence,  helped  them  to  empty  their  sacks  into  a  hole 
that  had  been  made  at  the  end  of  the  garden,  then 
gave  them  a  drink.  After  an  hour's  rest  Allain  gave 
the  signal  for  departure.  He  was  in  haste  to  get 
his  men  out  of  the  department  of  Calvados,  and 
shelter  them  from  the  first  pursuit  of  Caffarelli's 
police.  At  daybreak  they  crossed  the  Orne  by 
the  bridge  of  La  Landelle,  threw  their  guns  into  a 


THE  AFFAIR  OF  QUESNAY         121 

wheat-field  and  separated  after  receiving  each  200 
francs. 

This  day,  the  8th  June,  passed  in  the  most  perfect 
calm  for  the  inhabitants  of  Donnay.  Mme.  Acquet 
did  not  leave  La  Bijude.  In  the  afternoon  a  tanner 
of  Placy,  called  Brazard,  passed  the  house  and  called 
to  Hebert  whom  he  saw  in  the  garden.  He  told  him 
that  when  he  got  up  that  morning  he  had  found  four 
horses  tied  to  his  hedge.  The  gendarmes  from  Lan- 
gannerie  had  come  and  claimed  them  saying  "  they 
belonged  to  the  Falaise-Caen  coach  which  had  been 
attacked  in  the  night  by  Chouans."  Hebert  was  much 
astonished;  Mme.  Acquet  did  not  believe  it;  but  the 
report  spread  and  by  evening  the  news  was  known  to 
the  whole  village. 

Acquet  had  remained  invisible  for  a  month ;  his 
instinct  of  hatred  and  some  information  slyly  ob- 
tained, warned  him  that  his  wife  was  working  her 
own  ruin,  and  he  would  do  nothing  to  stop  her  good 
work.  Some  days  before,  Aumont,  his  gardener,  had 
remarked  one  morning  that  the  dew  was  brushed  ofF 
the  grass  of  the  lawn,  and  showed  footsteps  leading 
to  the  cellar  of  the  chateau,  but  Acquet  did  not  seem 
to  attach  any  importance  to  these  facts. 

He  learned  from  his  servant  of  the  robbery  of  the 
coach.  The  next  day,  Redet,  the  butcher  of  Meslay, 
said  that  ten  days  previously,  when  he  was  passing 
the  ruins  of  the  Abbey  of  Val  "  his  mare  shied, 
frightened  at  the  sight  of  seven  or  eight  men,  who 
came  out  from  behind  a  hedge ;  "  they  asked  him  the 
way  to  Rouen.     Redet,  without  answering,  made  off, 


122    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

and  as  he  told  every  one  of  this  encounter,  Hebert 
the  liegeman  of  Mme.  de  Combray,  had  instantly 
begged  him  not  to  spread  it  about.  If  Acquet  had 
retained  any  doubt,  this  would  have  satisfied  him. 
He  hurried  to  Meslay  to  consult  with  his  friend 
Darthenay,  and  the  next  day,  he  wrote  to  the  com- 
mandant of  gendarmerie  inviting  him  to  search  the 
Chateau  of  Donnay. 

The  visit  took  place  on  Friday,  12th  June,  and  was 
conducted  by  Captain  Pinteville.  Acquet  offered  to 
guide  him,  and  the  search  brought  some  singular  dis- 
coveries. Certain  doors  of  this  great  house,  long 
abandoned,  were  found  with  strong  locks  recently  put 
on ;  others  were  nailed  up  and  had  to  be  broken  in. 
"  In  a  dark,  retired  loft  that  it  was  difficult  to  enter  " 
(Acquet  conducted  the  gendarmes)  "  a  pile  of  hay 
still  retained  the  impress  of  six  men  who  had  slept  on 
it ;  some  fresh  bones,  scraps  of  bread  and  meat,  and 
the  dirt  bore  witness  that  the  band  had  lived  there ; 
some  sheets  of  paper  belonging  to  a  memoir  printed 
by  Hely  de  Bonnceil,  brother  of  Mme.  Acquet  were 
rolled  into  cartridges  and  hidden  in  a  corner  under  the 
tiles.  They  also  found  the  sacks  that  the  Buquets 
had  hidden  there  after  the  theft ;  in  the  floor  of  the 
cellar  a  hole,  "  two  and  a  half  feet  square,  and  of  the 
same  depth  had  been  dug  to  hold  the  money ; "  they 
had  taken  the  precaution  to  tear  up  the  flooring  above 
so  that  the  depot  could  be  watched  from  there.  The 
idea  of  hiding  the  treasure  here  had  been  abandoned, 
as  we  know,  in  favour  of  Buquets' ;  but  the  discovery 
was  important  and  Pinteville  drew  up  a  report  of  it. 


THE  AFFAIR  OF  QUESNAY         123 

But  things  went  no  further.  What  suspicion  could 
attach  to  the  owners  of  Donnay  ?  The  brigands,  it 
is  true,  had  made  use  of  their  house,  but  there  were 
no  grounds  for  an  accusation  of  complicity  in  that. 
Neither  Pinteville  nor  CafFarelli,  who  transmitted  the 
report  to  the  minister,  thought  of  pushing  their  en- 
quiries any  further. 

Fouche  knew  no  more  about  it,  but  he  thought  that 
the  affair  was  being  feebly  conducted.  It  seemed 
evident  that  the  attempt  at  Quesnay  would  swell  the 
already  long  list  of  thefts  of  public  funds,  by  those 
who  would  forever  remain  unpunished.  Real,  in- 
stinctively scenting  d'Ache  in  the  business,  remem- 
bered Captain  Manginot  who  at  the  time  of  Georges 
Cadoudal's  plot,  had  succeeded  in  tracing  the  stages 
of  the  conspirators  between  Biville  and  Paris,  and  to 
whom  they  owed  the  discovery  of  the  role  played  by 
d'Ache  in  the  conspiracy. 

Manginot  then  received  an  order  to  proceed  to 
Calvados  immediately.  On  the  23d  June  he  arrived 
at  Caffarelli's  bearing  this  letter  of  introduction : 
"  The  skill,  the  zeal  and  good  fortune  of  this  officer 
in  these  cases,  is  well  known ;  they  were  proved  in  a 
similar  affair,  and  I  ask  you  to  welcome  him  as  he 
deserves  to  be  welcomed."  The  prefet  was  quite 
willing ;  he  knew  too  well  the  habits  of  the  Chouans, 
and  their  cleverness  in  disappearing  to  have  any  per- 
sonal illusions  as  to  the  final  result  of  the  adventure, 
but  he  said  nothing  and  on  the  contrary  showed  the 
greatest  confidence  in  the  dexterity  of  a  man  who 
stood  so  well  at  court. 


124    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

Manginot  began  with  a  fresh  search  at  Donnay ; 
and,  as  his  reputation  obliged  him  to  be  successful, 
and  as  he  was  not  unwilling  to  astonish  the  author- 
ities of  Calvados  by  the  quickness  of  his  perceptions, 
he  caused  Acquet  de  Ferolles  to  be  arrested.  It  was 
he  who  had  first  warned  the  gendarmes  of  the  sojourn 
of  the  brigands  at  Donnay,  and  this  seemed  exceed- 
ingly suspicious ;  the  same  day  he  gave  the  order  to 
take  Hebert.  Several  people  in  the  village  insinuated 
that  Acquet  and  Hebert  were  irreconcilable  enemies 
and  that  Manginot  was  on  the  wrong  track ;  but  the 
detective's  head  was  now  swelled  with  importance 
and  he  would  not  draw  back.  Following  his  extrava- 
gant deductions  he  decided  that  the  complicity  of 
Gousset,  convicted  of  drinking  and  playing  skittles 
the  whole  way,  was  undoubted,  and  the  poor  man  was 
arrested  in  his  village  where  he  had  returned  to  his 
wife  and  children  to  recover  from  his  excitement. 
At  last  Manginot,  evidently  animated  by  his  blunders, 
took  it  into  his  head  that  Dupont  d'Aisy  himself 
might  well  have  kept  Pinteville  at  dinner  and  excited 
the  peasants  in  order  to  secure  the  retreat  of  the 
brigands,  and  issued  a  warrant  against  him  to  the 
stupefaction  of  CafFarelli  who  thus  saw  imprisoned 
all  those  whose  conduct  he  had  praised,  and  whom 
he  had  given  as  examples  of  devotion.  Thus,  in 
a  region  where  he  had  only  to  touch,  so  to  say,  to 
catch  a  criminal,  Captain  Manginot  was  unlucky 
enough  to  incarcerate  only  the  innocent,  and  to  com- 
plete the  irony,  these  innocent  prisoners  made  such  a 
poor  face  before  the   court  of  enquiry  that  his  sus- 


THE  AFFAIR  OF  QUESNAY         125 

picions  were  justified.  Acquet  was  very  anxious  to 
denounce  his  wife,  but  he  would  not  speak  without 
certainty  and  the  magistrate  before  whom  he  appeared 
at  Falaise  notes  that  in  the  course  of  interrogations 
"he  contradicted  himself;  his  replies  were  far  from 
satisfactory,  though  he  arranged  them  with  the  great- 
est care  and  reflected  long  before  speaking."  At  the 
first  insinuation  he  made  against  Mme.  de  Combray 
and  her  daughter,  the  judge  indignantly  silenced  him, 
and  sent  him  well-guarded  to  Caen  where  he  was  put 
in  close  custody.  As  to  Hebert,  not  wishing  to  com- 
promise the  ladies  of  La  Bijude  to  whom  he  was 
completely  devoted,  he  scarcely  replied  to  the  ques- 
tions put  to  him ;  all,  even  to  Dupont  d'Aisy  lent 
themselves  to  the  suspicions  of  Manginot.  Sixty 
guns  were  found  at  the  mayor's  house,  which  seemed 
an  excessive  number,  even  for  the  great  sportsman  he 
prided  himself  on  being,  and  here  again  all  indications 
tended  to  convince  Manginot  that  he  was  on  the 
right  track. 

Mme.  Acquet,  meanwhile  feigned  the  greatest  se- 
curity. Seeing  things  straying  from  the  right  way, 
she  might  indeed  imagine  that  she  was  removed  from 
all  danger,  and  she  had  besides,  other  anxieties.  The 
Chevalier  had  been  waiting  in  Paris  since  the  7th  of 
June  for  the  money  he  so  urgently  needed,  and  as 
nothing  appeared  in  spite  of  his  reiterated  demands, 
he  decided  to  come  and  fetch  it  himself;  he  did  not 
dare,  however,  to  appear  near  Falaise,  so  arranged  a 
meeting  at  Laigle  with  Lefebre,  earnestly  entreating 
him   to  bring   him  all  the  money  he  possibly  could. 


126    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

But  the  Buquets,  with  whom  the  60,000  francs  had 
been  left  on  the  7th  June,  obstinately  refused  to  give 
it  up  in  spite  of  Mme.  Acquet's  entreaties ;  they 
had  removed  the  money  from  their  garden  and  hidden 
it  in  various  places  which  they  jealously  kept  secret. 
However,  through  her  influence  over  Joseph,  Mme. 
Acquet  succeeded  in  obtaining  3,300  francs  which  she 
gave  the  lawyer  to  take  to  Le  Chevalier,  but  Lefebre, 
as  soon  as  he  got  hold  of  the  money,  declared  that  he 
had  been  promised  12,000  francs  for  his  assistance, 
and  that  he  would  keep  this  on  account.  He  went 
to  meet  Le  Chevalier  at  Laigle  however,  and  to  calm 
his  impatience  told  him  that  Dusaussay  was  going  to 
start  for  Paris  immediately  with  60,000  francs  which 
he  would  give  him  intact.  Mme.  Acquet  was  des- 
perate; prudence  forbade  her  trying  to  overcome  the 
Buquets'  obstinacy,  and  they,  in  order  to  keep  the 
money,  asserted  that  it  belonged  to  the  royal  ex- 
chequer, and  they  were  responsible  for  it ;  so  the  un- 
happy woman  found  that  she  had  committed  a  crime 
that  the  obstinacy  of  these  rapacious  peasants  ren- 
dered useless.  She  was  ready  to  abandon  all  in  order 
to  rejoin  Le  Chevalier,  ready  even  to  expatriate  her- 
self with  him,  when  they  heard  that  Mme.  de  Com- 
bray,  hearing  rumours  of  what  had  happened  in  Lower 
Normandy,  had  decided  to  come  to  Falaise,  to  plead 
the  cause  of  her  farmer,  Hebert.  She  had  left 
Tournebut  on  the  13th  July  and  taken  the  Caen 
coach  to  Evreux. 

Mme.  Acquet  had   gone   to  Langannerie  to  meet 
her  mother,  and  when  Mme.  de  Combray  descended 


THE  AFFAIR  OF  QUESNAY         127 

from  the  coach  the  young  woman  threw  herself  into 
her  arms.  As  the  Marquise  seemed  rather  surprised 
at  this  display  of  feeling  to  which  she  had  become  un- 
accustomed, her  daughter  said  in  a  low  voice,  sobbing : 

"  Save  me,  mama,  save  me  !  " 

Mother  and  daughter  resumed  the  affectionate  con- 
fidence of  former  days.  While  the  horses  were  being 
changed  and  the  postillions  were  taking  a  drink  in  the 
inn,  they  seated  themselves  beneath  a  tree  near  the 
road.  Mme.  Acquet  made  a  full  confession.  She 
told  how  her  love  for  Le  Chevalier  had  led  her  to  join 
in  the  affair  of  June  7th,  to  keep  Allain  and  his  men, 
and  to  hide  the  stolen  money  with  the  Buquets.  If 
it  should  be  found  there  she  was  lost,  and  it  was  im- 
portant to  get  it  from  the  Buquets  and  send  it  to  the 
leaders  of  the  party  for  whom  it  was  intended.  She 
did  not  dare  to  mention  Le  Chevalier  this  time,  but 
she  argued  that  for  fear  of  her  husband's  spies  she 
could  neither  take  the  money  to  her  own  house,  nor 
change  it  at  any  bankers  in  Caen  and  Falaise ;  the 
whole  country  knew  she  was  reduced  to  the  last  ex- 
pedients. 

Mme.  de  Combray  feared  no  such  dangers,  and 
considered  that  "  no  one  would  be  astonished  to  see 
50,000  or  60,000  francs  at  her  disposal."  But  she 
approved  less  of  some  other  points  in  the  affair,  not 
that  she  was  astonished  to  find  her  daughter  com- 
promised in  such  an  adventure,  for  how  many  similar 
ones  had  she  not  helped  to  prepare  in  her  Chateau 
of  Tournebut  ?  Had  she  not  inoculated  her  daughter 
with  her  political  fanaticism  in  representing  men  like 


128     THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

Hingant  de  Saint-Maur,  Raoul  Gaillard  and  Saint- 
Rejant  as  martyrs  ?  And  by  what  right  could  she  be 
severe,  when  she  herself,  daughter  of  the  President  of 
the  Cour  des  Comptes  of  Normandy,  had  been  ready 
to  join  in  a  theft  which,  "  the  sanctity  of  the  cause," 
rendered  praiseworthy  in  her  eyes  ?  The  Marquise 
de  Combray,  without  knowing  it,  was  a  Jacobite  re- 
versed ;  she  accepted  brigandage  as  the  terrorists 
formerly  accepted  the  guillotine ;  the  hoped-for  end 
justified  the  means. 

And  so  she  did  not  pour  out  reproaches ;  she  grew 
angry  at  the  mention  of  Le  Chevalier  whom  she 
hated,  but  Mme.  Acquet  calmed  her  with  the  assur- 
ance that  her  lover  had  acted  under  the  express  orders 
of  d'Ache  and  that  everything  had  been  arranged  be- 
tween the  two  men.  As  long  as  her  hero  was  con- 
cerned in  the  affair,  Mme.  de  Combray  was  happy  to 
take  a  hand.  That  evening  she  reached  Falaise,  and 
leaving  her  daughter  in  the  Rue  du  Tripot,  she  asked 
hospitality  from  one  of  her  relations,  Mme.  de 
Treprel.  Next  morning  she  sent  for  Lefebre.  Mme. 
Acquet,  before  introducing  him,  coached  him  thus, 
"  Say  as  little  as  possible  about  Le  Chevalier,  and  in- 
sist that  d'Ache  arranged  everything."  On  this 
ground  Lefebre  found  Mme.  de  Combray  most  con- 
ciliating, and  he  had  neither  to  employ  prayers  nor 
entreaties,  to  obtain  her  promise  to  get  the  60,000 
francs  from  the  Buquets ;  "  she  consented  without 
any  difficulty  or  adverse  opinion  ;  she  seemed  very 
zealous  and  pleased  at  the  turn  things  had  taken,  and 
offered  herself  to  take  the  money  to  Caen,  and  lodge 


THE  AFFAIR  OF  QUESNAY         129 

it  with  Nourry,  d' Ache's  banker."  Mme.  Acquet 
here  observed  that  she  was  not  at  liberty  to  dispose  of 
the  funds  thus.  She  had  only  taken  part  in  the  affair 
from  love,  and  cared  little  for  the  royalist  exchequer ; 
she  only  cared  that  her  devotion  should  profit  the  man 
she  adored,  and  if  the  money  was  sent  to  d'Ache,  all 
her  trouble  would  be  useless.  She  tried  to  insist,  say- 
ing that  Dusaussay  would  take  the  money  to  the  roy- 
alist treasurer  in  Paris,  that  Le  Chevalier  was  waiting 
for  it  in  order  to  go  to  Poitou  where  his  presence  was 
indispensable.  But  Mme.  de  Combray  was  inflexible 
on  this  point ;  the  entire  sum  should  be  delivered  to 
d'Ache's  banker,  or  she  would  withdraw  her  assistance. 
Mme.  Acquet  was  obliged  to  yield  with  a  heavy  heart, 
and  they  began  at  once  to  consider  the  best  means  of 
transporting  it.  The  Marquise  sent  Jouanne,  the  son 
of  the  old  cook  at  Glatigny,  to  tell  Lanoe  that  she 
wished  to  see  him  at  once.  Jouanne  made  the  six 
leagues  between  Falaise  and  Glatigny  at  one  stretch, 
and  returned  without  taking  breath,  with  Lanoe,  who 
put  him  up  behind  him  on  his  horse.  They  had 
scarcely  arrived  when  Mme.  de  Combray  ordered 
Lanoe  to  get  a  carriage  at  Donnay  and  prepare  for  a 
journey  of  several  days.  Lanoe  objected  a  little,  said 
it  was  harvest  time,  and  that  he  had  important  work 
to  finish,  but  all  that  mattered  little  to  the  Marquise, 
who  was  firm  and  expected  to  be  obeyed.  Mme. 
Acquet  also  insisted  saying,  "  You  know  that  mama 
only  feels  safe  when  you  drive  her  and  that  you  are 
always  well  paid  for  it."  This  decided  Lanoe  who 
started  for  Bijude  where  he  slept  that  night.     Mme. 


130    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

de  Combray  did  not  spare  her  servants,  and  distance 
was  not  such  an  obstacle  to  those  people,  accustomed 
to  marching  and  riding,  as  it  is  nowadays.  This 
fact  will  help  to  explain  some  of  the  incidents  that 
are  to  follow. 

On  Thursday,  July  i6th,  Lanoe  returned  to  Falaise 
with  a  little  cart  that  a  peasant  of  Donnay  had  lent 
him,  to  which  he  had  harnessed  his  horse  and  another 
lent  him  by  Desjardins,  one  of  Mme.  de  Combray 's 
farmers.  The  two  women  got  in  and  started  for  La 
Bijude,  Lefebre  accompanying  them  to  the  suburbs. 
He  arranged  a  meeting  with  them  at  Caen  two  days 
later,  and  gave  them  a  little  plan  he  had  drawn  which 
would  enable  them  to  avoid  the  more  frequented 
highroad. 

Mme.  de  Combray  and  her  daughter  slept  that 
night  at  La  Bijude.  The  next  day  was  spent  in 
arguing  with  the  Buquets  who  did  not  dare  to  resist 
the  Marquise's  commands,  and  at  night  they  delivered, 
against  their  will,  two  sacks  containing  9,000  francs 
in  crowns  which  she  caused  to  be  placed  in  the  cart, 
which  was  housed  in  the  barn.  It  was  impossible  to 
take  more  the  first  time,  and  Mme.  Acquet  rejoiced, 
hoping  that  the  rest  of  the  sum  would  remain  at  her 
disposal.  The  Marquise  had  judged  it  prudent  to 
send  Lanoe  away  to  the  fair  at  Saint-Clair  which  was 
held  in  the  open  country  about  a  league  away,  and 
they  only  saw  him  again  at  the  time  fixed  for  their 
departure  on  Saturday.  He  has  left  an  account  of  the 
journey,  which  though  evidently  written  in  a  bad 
temper,  is  rather  picturesque. 


THE  AFFAIR  OF  QUESNAY         131 

"  I  returned  from  the  fair,"  he  says,  "  towards  one 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  and  while  1  was  harnessing 
the  horses  I  saw  a  valise  and  night  bag  in  the  car- 
riage. Colin,  the  servant  at  La  Bijude,  threw  two 
bundles  of  straw  in  the  carriage  for  the  ladies  to  sit 
on,  and  Mme.  de  Combray  gave  me  a  portmanteau,  a 
package  which  seemed  to  contain  linen,  and  an 
umbrella  to  put  in  the  carriage.  On  the  road  I  made 
the  horses  trot,  but  Mme.  Acquet  told  me  not  to  go 
so  fast  because  they  didn't  want  to  arrive  at  Caen 
before  evening,  seeing  that  they  had  stolen  money  in 
the  carriage.  I  looked  at  her,  but  said  nothing,  but  I 
said  to  myself:  'This  is  another  of  her  tricks  ;  if  I 
had  known  this  before  we  started  I  would  have  left 
them  behind ;  she  used  deceit  to  compromise  me,  not 
being  able  to  do  so  openly.'  When  I  reproached  her 
for  it  some  days  later  she  said  :  '  I  suspected  that  if  I 
had  told  you  of  it,  you  would  not  have  gone.'  Dur- 
ing the  journey  the  ladies  talked  together,  but  the 
noise  of  the  carriage  prevented  me  from  hearing  what 
they  said.  However,  I  heard  Mme.  Acquet  say  that 
this  money  would  serve  to  pay  some  debts  or  to  give 
to  the  unfortunate.  I  also  heard  her  say  that  Le 
Chevalier  had  great  wit,  and  Mme.  de  Combray  re- 
plied that  M.  d'Ache's  wit  was  keener;  that  Le 
Chevalier  had  perhaps  a  longer  tongue.     .     .     ." 

The  itinerary  arranged  by  Lefebre,  left  the  main 
road  at  Saint-Andre-de-Fontcnay  near  the  hamlet  of 
Basse-Allemagne ;  night  was  falling  when  Lanoe's 
carriage  crossed  the  Orne  at  the  ferry  of  Athis. 
From  there  they  went  to  Bretteville-sur-Odon  in  or- 


132     THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

der  to  enter  the  town  as  if  they  had  come  from  Vire 
or  Bayeux.  The  notary  had  arrived  during  the  day 
at  Caen,  and  after  having  left  his  horse  at  the  inn  at 
Vaucelles,  he  crossed  the  town  on  foot  and  went  to 
meet  "  the  treasure  "  on  the  Vire  road.  Just  as  eight 
was  striking  he  reached  the  first  houses  in  Bretteville 
and  was  going  to  turn  back,  astonished  at  not  meet- 
ing the  cart  when  Mme.  Acquet  called  to  him  from  a 
window.  He  entered ;  Mme.  de  Combray  and  her 
daughter  had  stopped  there  while  Lanoe  was  having 
one  of  the  wheels  mended.  They  took  some  re- 
freshment, rested  the  horses  and  set  out  again  at  ten 
o'clock.  Lefebre  got  in  with  them  and  when  they 
arrived  at  Granville  he  got  down  and  paid  the  duty 
on  the  two  bundles  of  straw  that  were  in  the  waggon, 
and  then  entered  the  town  without  further  delay. 

By  the  notary's  advice  they  had  decided  to  take  the 
money  to  Gelin's  inn,  in  the  Rue  Pavee.  Gelin  was 
the  son-in-law  of  Lerouge,  called  Bornet,  whom  Le 
Chevalier  sometimes  employed,  but  the  waggon  was 
too  large  to  get  into  the  courtyard  of  the  inn  ;  some 
troops  had  been  passing  that  day  and  the  house  was 
filled  with  soldiers.  They  could  not  stay  there,  but 
had  to  leave  the  money  there,  and  while  Gelin 
watched,  the  Marquise,  uneasy  at  finding  herself  in 
such  a  place,  unable  to  leave  the  yard  because  the 
waggon  stopped  the  door,  had  to  assist  in  unloading  it. 
Two  men  were  very  busy  about  the  waggon,  one  of 
them  held  a  dark  lantern ;  Lefebre,  Lerouge  and  even 
Mme.  Acquet  pulled  the  sacks  from  the  straw  and 
threw  them  into  the  house  by  a  window  on  the  ground 


THE  AFFAIR  OF  QUESNAY         133 

floor.  Mme.  de  Combray  seemed  to  feel  her  deca- 
dence for  the  first  time  ;  she  found  herself  mixed  up 
in  one  of  those  expeditions  that  she  had  until  then 
represented  as  chivalrous  feats  of  arms,  and  these  by- 
ways of  brigandage  filled  her  with  horror. 

"  But  they  are  a  band  of  rascals,"  she  said  to  Lanoe, 
and  she  insisted  on  his  taking  her  away  ;  she  was 
obliged  to  pass  through  the  inn  filled  with  men  drink- 
ing. At  last,  outside,  without  turning  round  she 
went  to  the  Hotel  des  Trois  Marchands,  opposite 
Notre-Dame,  where  she  usually  stayed. 

Mme.  Acquet  had  no  such  qualms;  she  supped 
with  the  men,  and  in  the  night  had  a  mysterious  in- 
terview with  Allan  behind  the  walls  of  Notre-Dame. 
Where  Mme.  Acquet  slept  that  night  is  not  known ; 
she  only  appeared  at  the  Hotel  des  Trois  Marchands 
four  days  later,  where  she  met  Mme.  de  Combray 
who  had  just  returned  from  Bayeux.  In  her  need  of 
comfort  the  Marquise  had  tried  to  see  d'Ache  and  find 
out  if  it  were  true  that  Allain  had  acted  according  to 
his  orders,  but  d'Ache  had  assured  his  old  friend  that 
he  disapproved  of  such  vile  deeds,  and  that  "  he  was 
still  worthy  of  her  esteem."  She  had  returned  to  Caen 
much  grieved  at  having  allowed  herself  to  be  deceived 
by  her  daughter  and  the  lawyer;  she  told  them  noth- 
ing of  her  visit  to  Bayeux,  except  that  she  had  not 
seen  d'Ache  and  that  he  was  still  in  England ;  then, 
quite  put  out,  she  returned  to  Falaise  in  the  coach, 
not  wanting  to  travel  with  her  daughter.  Mme. 
Acquet,  the  same  day, — Thursday  the  23d  July — took 
a  carriage  that  ran    from   Caen  to  Harcourt  and  got 


134    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

down  at  Forge-a-Cambro  where  Lanoe,  who  had  re- 
turned to  Donnay  on  iMonday,  was  waiting,  with  his 
waggon. 

As  soon  as  she  was  seated  Lanoe  informed  her  that 
the  gendarmes  had  gone  to  Donnay  and  searched  the 
Buquets'  house,  but  left  without  arresting  any  one  ; 
"  a  man  in  a  long  black  coat  was  conducting  them." 
Mme.  Acquet  asked  several  questions,  then  told 
Lanoe  to  whip  up  the  horses  and  remained  silent  until 
they  reached  La  Bijude ;  he  observed  her  with  the 
corner  of  his  eye,  and  saw  that  she  was  very  pale. 
When  they  arrived  at  the  village  she  went  immedi- 
ately to  the  Buquets  and  remained  a  quarter  of  an 
hour  closeted  with  Joseph.  No  doubt  she  was  ma- 
king a  supreme  effort  to  get  some  money  from  him  ; 
she  reappeared  with  heightened  colour  and  very  ex- 
cited. "  Quick,  to  Falaise,"  she  said.  But  Lanoe 
told  her  he  had  something  to  do  at  home,  and  that  his 
horse  could  not  be  always  on  the  go.  But  she  wor- 
ried him  until  he  consented  to  take  her. 

While  the  horse  was  being  fed  Mme.  Acquet  went 
to  La  Bijude  and  threw  herself  on  the  bed,  fully 
dressed.  The  day  had  been  very  heavy  and  towards 
evening  lightning  flashed  brightly.  About  two  in  the 
morning  Lanoe  knocked  on  the  window  and  Mme. 
Acquet  appeared,  ready  to  start.  She  got  up  behind 
him,  and  they  took  the  road  by  the  forest  of  Saint- 
Clair  and  Bonnoeil,  and  when  they  were  going 
through  the  wood  the  storm  burst  with  extraordinary 
violence,  huge  gusts  bent  the  trees,  breaking  the 
branches,  the  rain  fell  in  torrents,  changing  the  road 


THE  AFFAIR  OF  QUESNAY         135 

to  a  river  5  the  horse  still  advanced  however,  but  to- 
wards day,  when  approaching  the  village  of  Noron, 
Mme.  Acquet  suddenly  felt  such  violent  indisposition 
that  she  fell  to  the  ground  in  a  faint.  Lanoe  laid  her 
on  the  side  of  the  road  in  the  mud.  When  she  came 
to  herself  she  begged  him  to  leave  her  there,  and 
hasten  to  Falaise  and  bring  back  Lefebre ;  she  seemed 
to  be  haunted  by  the  thought  of  the  man  in  the  black 
overcoat  who  had  guided  the  gendarmes  at  Donnay. 
Lanoe,  in  a  great  fright,  obeyed,  but  Lefebre  could 
not  come  before  afternoon ,  at  Noron  they  found 
Mme.  Acquet  in  an  inn  to  which  she  had  dragged 
herself.  The  poor  woman  was  in  a  fever,  and  almost 
raving  she  told  Lefebre  that  she  had  no  money  to 
give  him  j  that  the  gendarmes  had  been  to  Donnay ; 
that  the  man  who  showed  them  the  way  was  proba- 
bly one  of  AUain's  companions,  but  that  she  feared 
nothing  and  was  going  there  to  bring  back  the 
money. 

Lefebre  tried  to  calm  her,  but  when  he  left  after 
half  an  hour's  talk,  she  tried  Lanoe,  begging  him  to 
take  her  back  to  Donnay ;  he  resisted  strongly,  not 
wanting  to  hear  any  more  of  the  affair,  but  at  last  he 
softened  at  her  despair,  but  swore  that  now  he  had 
had  enough  of  it,  and  would  leave  her  at  La  Bijude. 
She  agreed  to  all,  climbed  on  the  horse,  and  taking 
Lanoe  round  the  waist  as  before,  her  dripping  gar- 
ments clinging  to  her  shivering  form,  she  started  again 
for  Donnay.  When  passing  Villeneuve,  a  farm  be- 
longing to  her  brother  Bonnoeil  she  saw  a  group  of 
women  gesticulating  excitedly ;  the  farmer  Truffault 


136     THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

came  up  and  in  response  to  her  anxious  enquiries, 
replied : 

"A  misfortune  has  taken  place;  the  gendarmes 
have  been  to  the  Buquets,  and  taken  the  father, 
mother  and  eldest  son.  Joseph,  who  hid  himself,  is 
alone  and  very  unhappy." 

The  farmer  added  that  he  had  just  sent  his  boy  to 
Falaise  to  inform  Mme.  de  Combray  of  the  event. 
Mme.  Acquet  got  off  her  horse,  drew  TrufFault  aside 
and  questioned  him  in  a  low  voice.  When  she  re- 
turned to  Lanoe  she  was  as  white  as  a  wax  candle. 
"  I  am  lost,"  she  said,  "  Joseph  Buquet  will  denounce 
me." 

Then,  with  a  steady  look,  speaking  to  herself:  "  I 
could  also,  in  my  turn  denounce  Allain,  seeing  that  he 
is  an  outlaw,  but  where  should  I  say  I  had  met  him  ?  " 
She  seemed  most  uneasy,  not  knowing  what  to  do. 
Then  she  hinted  that  she  must  go  back  to  P'alaise. 
But  Lanoe  was  inflexible,  he  swore  he  would  go  no 
further,  and  that  she  could  apply  to  the  farmer  if  she 
wanted  to.  And  giving  his  horse  the  rein  he  went 
ofF  at  a  trot,  leaving  her  surrounded  by  the  peasants, 
who  silently  gazed  in  wondering  consternation  at  the 
daughter  of  "  their  lady  "  covered  with  mud,  wild- 
eyed,  her  arms  swinging  and  her  whole  appearance  so 
hopeless  and  forlorn  as  to  awaken  pity  in  the  hardest 
heart. 

The  same  evening  the  lawyer  Lefebre,  learned  on 
reaching  home,  that  Mme.  de  Combray  had  sent  her 
gardener  to  ask  him  to  come  to  her  immediately  in 
the  Rue  du  Tripot.     But  worn  out,  he  threw  him- 


THE  AFFAIR  OF  QUESNAY         137 

self  on  his  bed  and  slept  soundly  till  some  one 
knocked  at  his  door  about  one  in  the  morning.  It 
was  the  gardener  again,  who  was  so  insistent  that 
Lefebre  decided  to  go  with  him  in  spite  of  fatigue. 
He  found  the  Marquise  wild  with  anxiety.  Truf- 
fault's  boy  had  told  her  of  the  arrest  of  the  Buquets, 
and  she  had  not  gone  to  bed,  expecting  to  see  the 
gendarmes  appear ;  her  only  idea  was  to  fly  to  Tour- 
nebut  and  hide  herself  there  with  her  daughter ;  she 
begged  the  lawyer  to  accompany  them,  and  while  ex- 
citedly talking,  tied  a  woollen  shawl  round  her  head. 
Lefebre,  who  was  calmer,  told  her  that  he  had  left 
Mme.  Acquet  at  Noron  in  a  state  of  exhaustion,  that 
they  must  wait  until  she  was  in  a  condition  to  travel 
before  starting,  and  that  it  would  be  impossible  to  ob- 
tain a  carriage  at  this  time  of  night.  But  Mme.  de 
Combray  would  listen  to  nothing ;  she  gave  her  gar- 
dener three  crowns  to  go  to  Noron  and  tell  Mme. 
Acquet  that  she  must  start  immediately  for  Tournebut 
by  Saint-Sylvain  and  Lisieux;  then  traversing  the  de- 
serted streets  with  Lefebre,  who  stopped  at  his  house 
to  get  the  three  thousand  francs,  from  the  robbery  of 
June  7th,  she  reached  the  Val  d'Ante  and  took  the 
road  to  Caen. 

It  was  very  dark ;  the  storm  had  ceased  but  the 
rain  still  fell  heavily.  The  old  Marquise  continued 
her  journey  over  the  flooded  roads,  defying  fatigue 
and  only  stopping  occasionally  to  make  sure  she  was 
not  followed.  Lefebre,  now  afraid  also,  hastened  his 
steps  beside  her,  bending  beneath  the  weight  of  his 
portmanteau    filled    with    crowns.     Neither    spoke. 


13S     THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

The  endless  road  was  the  same  one  taken  by  the 
waggon  containing  the  Alen9on  money  on  the  day  of 
the  robbery,  and  the  remembrance  of  this  rendered 
their  wild  night  march  still  more  tragic. 

It  was  scarcely  dawn  when  the  fugitives  crossed 
the  wood  of  Quesnay  ;  at  Langannerie  they  left  the 
highroad  and  crossed  by  Bretteville-le-Rabet.  It 
was  now  broad  daylight,  barns  were  opening,  and 
people  looked  astonished  at  this  strange  couple  who 
seemed  to  have  been  walking  all  night ;  the  Marquise 
especially  puzzled  them,  with  her  hair  clinging  to  her 
cheeks,  her  skirts  soaked  and  her  slippers  covered 
with  mud.     But  no  one  dared  question  them. 

At  six  in  the  morning  Mme.  deCombray  and  her 
companion  arrived  at  Saint-Sylvain,  five  good  leagues 
from  Falaise.  If  Mme.  Acquet  had  succeeded  in 
leaving  Noron  they  ought  to  meet  her  there.  Lefebre 
enquired  at  the  inn,  but  no  one  had  been  there. 
They  waited  for  two  hours  which  the  lawyer  em- 
ployed in  seeking  a  waggon  to  go  on  to  Lisieux.  A 
peasant  agreed  to  take  them  for  fifteen  francs  paid  in 
advance,  and  about  eight  o'clock,  as  Mme.  Acquet 
had  not  arrived  they  decided  to  start.  They  stopped 
at  Croissanville  a  little  further  on,  and  while  break- 
fasting, Lefebre  wrote  to  Lanoe  telling  him  to  find 
Mme.  Acquet  at  once  and  tell  her  to  hasten  to  her 
mother  at  Tournebut. 

The  rest  of  the  journey  was  uneventful.  They 
reached  Lisieux  at  supper-time  and  slept  there.  The 
next  day  Mme.  de  Combray  took  two  places  under  an 
assumed  name,  in  the  coach  for  Evreux,  where  they 


THE  AFFAIR  OF  QUESNAY         139 

arrived  in  the  evening.  The  fugitives  had  a  refuge  in 
the  Rue  de  TUnion  with  an  old  Chouan  named 
Vergne,  who  had  been  in  orders  before  the  Revolu- 
tion, but  had  become  a  doctor  since  the  pacification. 
Next  day  Mme.  de  Combray  and  Lefebre  made  five 
leagues  from  Evreux  to  Louviers  ;  they  got  out  before 
entering  the  town  as  the  Marquise  wished  to  avoid 
the  Hotel  du  Mouton  where  she  was  known.  They 
went  by  side  streets  to  the  bridge  of  the  Eure  where 
they  hired  a  carriage  which  took  them  by  nightfall  to 
the  hamlet  of  Val-Tesson.  They  were  now  only  a 
league  from  Tournebut  which  they  could  reach  by 
going  through  the  woods.  But  would  they  not  find 
gendarmes  there  ?  Mme.  de  Combray's  flight  might 
have  aroused  suspicion  at  Falaise,  Caen  and  Bayeux, 
and  brought  police  supervision  to  her  house.  It  was 
nine  in  the  evening  when,  after  an  hour's  walk,  she 
reached  the  Hermitage.  She  thought  it  prudent  to 
send  Lefebre  on  ahead,  and  accompanied  him  to  the 
gate  where  she  left  him  to  venture  in  alone.  All  ap- 
peared tranquil  in  the  chateau,  the  lawyer  went  into 
the  kitchen  where  he  found  a  scullery  maid  who 
called  Soyer,  the  confidential  man,  and  Mme.  de  Com- 
bray only  felt  safe  when  she  saw  the  latter  himself 
come  to  open  a  door  into  the  garden ;  she  then 
slipped,  without  being  seen,  into  her  own  room. 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE  YELLOW  HORSE 

The  man  in  the  "  black  overcoat "  who  had  con- 
ducted the  gendarmes  on  their  visit  to  Donnay,  was 
no  other  than  "  Grand-Charles,"  one  of  AUain's  fol- 
lowers. He  had  been  arrested  at  Le  Chalange  on 
July  14th,  and  had  consented  without  hesitation,  to 
show  the  spot  in  the  Buquets'  garden  where  the 
money  had  been  hidden.  He  recognised  the  position 
of  the  house  and  garden,  the  room  in  which  Allain 
and  his  companions  had  been  received  on  the  night 
of  the  robbery,  and  even  the  glass  which  Mme. 
Buquet  had  filled  for  him.  At  the  bottom  of  the 
garden  traces  of  the  excavation  that  had  contained  the 
money  were  found ;  the  loft  contained  linen,  and 
other  effects  of  Mme.  Acquet;  her  miniature  was 
hanging  on  the  wall  of  Joseph's  room.  Joseph  alone 
had  fled ;  his  father,  mother,  and  brother  were  taken 
to  prison  in  Caen  the  same  evening. 

"  Grand-Charles,"  who  did  not  want  to  be  the 
only  one  compromised,  showed  the  greatest  zeal  in 
searching  for  his  accomplices.  As  Querelle  had 
done  before,  he  led  Manginot  and  his  thirty  gen- 
darmes over  all  the  country,  until  they  reached  the 
village  of  Mancelliere,  which  passed  as  the  most 
famous  resort  of  malcontents  in  a  circuit  of  twenty 

140 


THE  YELLOW  HORSE  141 

leagues.  As  in  the  happiest  days  of  the  Chouan 
revolt,  there  were  bloody  combats  between  the  gen- 
darmes and  the  deserters.  After  one  of  these  engage- 
ments Pierre-Francois  Harel, — who  had  passed  most 
of  his  time  since  the  Quesnay  robbery  in  a  barrel 
sunk  in  the  earth  at  the  bottom  of  a  garden — was  ar- 
rested in  the  house  of  a  M.  Lebougre,  where  he  had 
gone  to  get  some  brandy  and  salt  to  dress  a  wound. 
But  Manginot  made  a  more  important  capture  in 
Flierle,  who  was  living  peacefully  at  Amaye-sur- 
Orne,  with  one  of  his  old  captains,  Rouault  des  Vaux. 
Flierle  told  his  story  as  soon  as  he  was  interrogated ; 
he  knew  that  "  high  personages  "  were  in  the  plot, 
and  thought  they  would  think  twice  before  pushing 
things  to  an  issue. 

If  Manginot  was  thus  acting  with  an  energy  worthy 
of  praise,  he  received  none  from  CafFarelli,  who  was 
distressed  at  the  turn  affairs  had  taken,  and  wished 
that  the  affair  of  Quesnay  might  be  reduced  to  the 
proportions  of  a  simple  incident.  He  interrogated 
the  prisoners  with  the  reserve  and  precaution  of  a 
man  who  was  interfering  in  what  did  not  concern 
him,  and  if  he  learned  from  Flierle  much  that  he 
would  rather  not  have  known  about  the  persistent 
organisation  of  the  Chouans  in  Calvados,  he  could 
get  no  information  concerning  the  deed  that  had  led 
to  his  arrest. 

The  German  did  not  conceal  his  fear  of  assassin- 
ation if  he  should  speak,  Allain  having  promised,  on 
June  8th,  at  the  bridge  of  Landelle,  "poison,  or 
pistol  shot  to  the  first  who  should  reveal  anything. 


142     THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

and  the  assistance  of  two  hundred  determined  men  to 
save  those  who  showed  discretion,  from  the  venge- 
ance of  Bonaparte." 

Things  were  different  in  Paris.  The  police  were 
working  hard,  and  Fouche  was  daily  informed  of  the 
slightest  details  bearing  on  the  events  that  were  taking 
place  in  Lower  Normandy.  For  several  weeks  de- 
tectives had  been  watching  a  young  man  who  arrived 
in  Paris  the  second  fortnight  of  May ;  he  was  often 
seen  in  the  Palais-Royal,  and  called  himself  openly 
"  General  of  the  Chouans,*'  and  assumed  great  im- 
portance. The  next  report  gave  his  name  as  Le 
Chevalier,  from  Caen,  and  more  information  was  de- 
manded of  CafFarelli.  The  Prefect  of  Calvados  re- 
plied that  the  description  tallied  with  that  of  a  man 
who  had  often  been  denounced  to  him  as  an  incor- 
rigible royalist ;  he  was  easy  to  recognise  as  he  had 
lost  the  use  of  his  left  arm. 

The  police  received  orders  not  to  lose  sight  of  this 
person.  He  lived  at  the  Hotel  de  Beauvais,  Rue  des 
Vieux-Augustins,  a  house  that  had  been  known  since 
the  Revolution  as  the  resort  of  royalists  passing 
through  Paris.  Le  Chevalier  went  out  a  great  deal; 
he  dined  in  town  nearly  every  night,  with  people  of 
good  position.  He  was  followed  for  a  fortnight; 
then  the  order  for  his  arrest  was  given,  and  on  July 
15th  he  was  taken,  handcuffed,  to  the  prefecture  of 
police  and  accused  of  participation  in  the  robbery  at 
Quesnay. 

Le  Chevalier  was  not  the  man  to  be  caught  nap- 
ping.    His  looks,  his  manner  and  his  eloquence  had 


THE  YELLOW  HORSE  143 

got  him  out  of  so  many  scrapes,  that  he  doubted  not 
they  would  once  more  save  his  life.  The  letter  he 
wrote  to  Real  on  the  day  of  his  arrest  is  so  character- 
istic of  him — at  once  familiar  and  haughty — that  it 
would  be  a  pity  not  to  quote  it : 

"  Arrested  on  a  suspicion  of  brigandage,  of  which  it 
is  as  important  to  justify  myself  as  painful  to  have  to 
do  it,  but  full  of  confidence  in  my  honour,  which  is 
unimpeachable,  and  in  the  well-known  justice  of  your 
character,  I  beg  you  to  grant  me  a  few  minutes'  audi- 
ence, during  which — being  well  disposed  to  answer 
your  questions,  and  even  to  forestall  them — I  flatter 
myself  that  I  can  convince  you  that  the  condition  of 
my  affairs  and,  above  all,  my  whole  conduct  in  life, 
raise  me  above  any  suspicion  of  brigandage  whatever. 
I  hope  also.  Monsieur,  that  this  conversation,  the 
favour  of  which  your  justice  will  accord  me,  will  con- 
vince you  that  I  am  not  mad  enough  to  engage  in 
political  brigandage,  or  to  engage  in  a  struggle  with 
the  government  to  which  the  proudest  sovereigns  have 
yielded.     .     .     . 

"A.  Le  Chevalier." 

And  to  prove  that  he  had  taken  no  part  in  the  rob- 
bery of  June  7th,  he  added  to  his  letter  twenty 
affirmations  of  honourable  and  well-known  persons 
who  had  either  seen  or  dined  with  him  in  Paris  each 
day  of  the  month  from  the  ist  to  the  20th.  Among 
these  were  the  names  of  his  compatriot,  the  poet 
Chenedolle,  and  Dr.  Dupuytren  whom  he  had  con- 
sulted on  the  advisability  of  amputating  the  fingers  of 
his  left  hand,  long  useless.  He  had  even  taken  care 
to  be  seen  at  the  Te  Deum  sung  in  Notre-Dame  for 


144    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

the  taking  of  Dantzig.  His  precautions  had  been 
well  taken,  and  once  again  his  aplomb  was  about  to 
save  him,  when  Real,  much  embarrassed  by  this  soft 
spoken  prisoner,  thought  of  sending  him  to  Caen,  in 
the  hope  that  confronting  him  with  Flierle,  Grand- 
Charles  and  the  Buquets  might  have  some  result. 
CafFarelli  was  convinced  that  Le  Chevalier  was  the 
leader  in  the  plot,  yet  they  had  searched  carefully  in 
his  house  in  the  Rue  Saint-Sauveur ;  without  finding 
anything  but  some  private  papers.  Flierle  had  recog- 
nised him  as  the  man  to  whom  he  acted  as  secretary 
and  courier,  yet  Le  Chevalier  had  contemptuously  re- 
plied that  "  the  German  was  not  the  sort  to  be  his 
servant,  and  that  their  only  connection  was  that  of 
benefactor  and  recipient."  It  was  out  of  the  ques- 
tion that  any  tribunal  could  be  found  to  condemn 
a  man  who  on  the  day  of  the  crime  had  been  sixty 
leagues  from  the  place  where  it  was  committed.  As 
to  convicting  him  as  a  royalist  who  approved  of  the 
theft  of  public  funds — they  might  as  well  do  the 
same  with  all  Normandy.  Besides,  to  CafFarelli,  who 
had  no  allusions  as  to  the  sentiments  of  the  district, 
and  who  was  always  in  fear  of  a  new  Chouan  explo- 
sion, the  presence  of  Le  Chevalier  in  prison  at  Caen 
was  a  perpetual  nightmare.  AUain  might  suddenly 
appear  with  an  army,  and  make  an  attempt  to  carry 
ofF  his  chief  similar  to  that  which,  under  the  Direc- 
tory, saved  the  lives  of  the  Vicomte  de  Chambray 
and  Chevalier  Destouches,  to  the  amusement  and  de- 
light of  the  whole  province.  And  this  is  why  the 
prudent  prefect,  not  caring  to  encumber  himself  with 


THE  YELLOW  HORSE  145 

such  a  compromising  prisoner,  in  four  days,  obtained 
Real's  permission  to  send  him  back  to  Paris,  where 
he  was  confined  in  the  Temple.  Ah  !  What  a  fine 
letter  he  wrote  to  the  Chief  of  Police,  as  soon  as  he 
arrived  there,  and  how  he  posed  as  the  unlucky  rival 
of  Napoleon  ! 

This  profession  of  faith  is  too  long  to  be  given  en- 
tirely, but  it  throws  such  light  on  the  character  of  the 
writer,  and  on  the  illusions  which  the  royalists  obsti- 
nately fostered  during  the  most  brilliant  period  of  the 
imperial  regime,  that  a  few  extracts  are  indispensable. 

"  You  wished  to  know  the  truth  concerning  the 
declarations  of  Fiierle  on  my  account,  and  on  the 
projects  that  he  divulged.  I  will  tell  you  of  them. 
Denial  suits  well  a  criminal  who  fears  the  eye  of  jus- 
tice, but  it  is  foreign  to  a  character  that  fears  nothing 
and  to  whom  the  first  success  of  his  enterprises  lies 
in  the  esteem  of  his  enemies. 

"  Your  Excellency  will  kindly  see  in  me  neither  a 
man  trembling  at  death,  nor  a  mind  seduced  by  the 
hope  of  reward.  I  ask  nothing  to  tell  what  I  think, 
for  in  telling  it  I  satisfy  myself.  I  planned  an  insur- 
rection against  Napoleon's  government,  I  desired  his 
ruin,  if  I  have  not  been  able  to  effect  it,  it  is  because 
I  have  always  been  badly  seconded  and  often  betrayed. 

"  What  were  my  means  of  entertaining  at  least  the 
hope  of  success  ?  Not  wishing  to  appear  absolutely 
mad  in  your  eyes,  I  am  going  to  make  them  known ; 
but  not  wishing  to  betray  the  confidence  of  those  who 
would  have  served  me,  I  shall  withhold  the  details. 

"  I  was  born  generous,  and  a  lover  of  glory.  After 
the  amnesty  of  the  year  VIII  I  was  the  richest  among 


146    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

my  comrades  :  my  money,  well  dispensed,  procured 
me  followers.  For  several  years  I  watched  for  a 
favourable  moment  to  revolt.  The  last  campaign  in 
Austria  offered  this  occasion.  Every  one  in  the  West 
believed  in  the  defection  of  the  French  armies ;  I  did 
not  believe  in  it,  but  was  going  to  profit  by  the  gen- 
eral opinion.  Victory  came  too  quickly,  and  I  had 
hardly  time  to  plan  anything. 

"After  having  established  connections  in  several 
departments,  I  left  for  Paris.  There,  all  concurred  in 
fortifying  my  hopes.  Many  republicans  shared  my 
wishes  j  I  negotiated  with  them  for  a  reunion  of 
parties,  to  make  action  more  certain  and  reaction  less 
strong.  The  movement  must  take  place  in  the  cap- 
ital, a  provisional  government  must  be  established, — 
all  France  would  have  passed  through  a  new  regime 
before  the  Emperor  returned. 

"  But  it  did  not  take  me  long  to  discover  that  the  re- 
publicans had  not  all  the  means  they  boasted.  .  .  . 
I  returned  to  the  royalists  in  the  capital ;  they  were 
disunited  and  without  plans.  I  had  only  a  few  men 
in  Paris ;  I  abandoned  my  designs  there,  and  returned 
to  the  provinces.  There  I  could  collect  two  or  three 
thousand  men,  and  as  soon  as  I  had  done  that  I 
should  have  sent  to  ask  the  Bourbon  princes  to  put 
themselves  at  the  head  of  my  troops.     .     .     . 

"  But  at  the  opening  of  the  second  campaign  my 
plans  were  postponed.  However,  the  measures  I  had 
been  obliged  to  take  could  not  remain  secret.  Some 
refractory  conscripts,  some  deserters,  appeared  armed, 
at  different  places ;  they  had  to  be  maintained,  and 
without  an  order  ad  hoc^  but  by  virtue  of  general  in- 
structions, one  of  my  officers  possessed  himself  of 
the  public  funds  for  the  purpose.  .  .  .  The 
guilty  ones  are  .  .  .  myself,  for  whom  I  ask 
nothing,  not  from  pride,  for  the  haughtiest  spirit  need 


THE  YELLOW  HORSE  147 

not  feel  humiliated  at  receiving  grace  from  one  who 
has  granted  it  to  kings,  but  from  honour.  Your  Ex- 
cellency will  no  doubt  wish  to  know  the  motive  that 
urged  me  to  conceive  and  nourish  such  projects. 
The  motive  is  this :  I  have  seen  the  unhappiness  of 
the  amnestied,  and  my  own  misfortune ;  people  pro- 
scribed in  the  state,  classed  as  serfs,  excluded  not 
only  from  all  employment,  but  also  tyrannised  by 
those  who  formerly  only  lacked  the  courage  to  join 
their  cause.     .     . 

"  Whatever  fate  is  reserved  for  me,  I  beg  you  to 
consider  that  I  have  not  ceased  to  be  a  Frenchman, 
that  I  may  have  succumbed  to  noble  madness,  but 
have  not  sought  cowardly  success ;  and  I  hope  that, 
in  view  of  this,  your  Excellency  will  grant  me  the 
only  favour  I  ask  for  myself — that  my  trial,  if  I  am 
to  have  one,  may  be  military,  as  well  as  its  execu- 
tion.    .     .     . 

"  A.  Le  Chevalier." 


One  can  imagine  the  stupefaction,  on  reading  this 
missive  of  Fouche,  of  Real,  Desmarets,  Veyrat,  and 
of  all  those  on  whom  it  rested  to  make  his  people  ap- 
pear to  the  Master  as  enthusiastic  and  contented,  or 
at  least  silent  and  submissive.  They  felt  that  the  let- 
ter was  not  all  bragging ;  they  saw  in  it  Georges'  plan 
amplified;  the  same  threat  of  a  descent  of  Bourbons 
on  the  coast,  the  same  assurance  of  overturning,  by  a 
blow  at  Bonaparte,  the  immense  edifice  he  had  erected. 
In  fact,  the  belief  that  the  Empire,  to  which  all 
Europe  now  seemed  subjugated,  was  at  the  mercy  of 
a  battle  won  or  lost,  was  so  firmly  established  in  the 
mind  of  the  population,  that  even  a  man  like  Fouche, 
for  example,  who  thoroughly  understood  the  under- 


148     THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

currents  of  opinion,  could  never  believe  in  the  solidity 
of  the  regime  that  he  worked  for.  Were  not  the 
germs  of  the  whole  story  of  the  Restoration  in  Le 
Chevalier's  profession  of  faith  ?  Were  they  not 
found  again,  five  years  later,  in  the  astonishing  con- 
ception of  Malet  ?  Were  things  very  different  in 
1 8 14?  The  Emperor  vanquished,  the  defection  of 
the  generals,  the  descent  of  the  princes,  the  interven- 
tion of  a  provisional  government,  the  reestablishment 
of  the  monarchy,  such  were,  in  reality  the  events  that 
followed  ;  they  were  what  Georges  had  foreseen,  what 
d'Ache  had  anticipated,  what  Le  Chevalier  had  divined 
with  such  clear-sightedness.  Though  they  seemed 
miraculous  to  many  people  they  were  simply  the 
logical  result  of  continued  effort,  the  success  of  a  con- 
spiracy in  which  the  actors  had  frequently  been 
changed,  but  which  had  suffered  no  cessation  from  the 
coup  d'etat  of  Brumaire  until  the  abdication  at  Fon- 
tainebleau.  The  chiefs  of  the  imperial  police,  then, 
found  themselves  confronted  by  a  new  "  affaire 
Georges."  From  Flierle's  partial  revelations  and  the 
little  that  had  been  learned  from  the  Buquets,  they  in- 
ferred that  d'Ache  was  at  the  head  of  it,  and  recom- 
mended all  the  authorities  to  search  well,  but  quietly. 
In  spite  of  these  exhortations,  CafFarelli  seemed  to 
lose  all  interest  in  the  plot,  which  he  had  finally 
analysed  as  "  vast  but  mad,"  and  unworthy  of  any 
further  attention  on  his  part. 

The  prefect  of  the  Seine-Inferieure,  Savoye-Rollin, 
had  manifested  a  zeal  and  ardour  each  time  that  Real 
addressed  him  on  the  subject  of  the  affair  of  Quesnay, 


THE  YELLOW  HORSE  149 

in  singular  contrast  with  the  indifference  shown  by 
his  colleague  of  Calvados.  Savoye-Rollin  belonged 
to  an  old  parliamentary  family.  Being  advocate-gen- 
eral to  the  parliament  of  Grenoble  before  1790,  he 
had  adopted  the  more  moderate  ideas  of  the  Revolu- 
tion, and  had  been  made  a  member  of  the  tribunate  on 
the  eighteenth  Brumaire  in  1806,  at  the  age  of  fifty- 
two,  he  replaced  Beugnot  in  the  prefecture  of  Rouen. 
He  was  a  most  worthy  functionary,  a  distinguished 
worker,  and  possessor  of  a  fine  fortune. 

Real  left  it  to  Savoye-Rollin  to  find  d'Ache,  who, 
they  remembered,  had  lived  at  the  farm  of  Saint-Clair 
near  Gournay,  before  Georges'  disembarkation,  and 
who  possessed  some  property  in  the  vicinity  of 
Neufchatel.  The  police  of  Rouen  was  neither  better 
organised  nor  more  numerous  than  that  of  Caen,  but 
its  chief  was  a  singular  personage  whose  activity  made 
up  for  the  qualities  lacking  in  his  men.  He  was  a 
little,  restless,  shrewd,  clever  man,  full  of  imagination 
and  wit,  frank  with  every  one  and  fearing,  as  he  him- 
self said,  "  neither  woman,  God  nor  devil."  He  was 
named  Licquet,  and  in  1807  was  fifty-three  years  old. 
At  the  time  of  the  Revolution  he  had  been  keeper  of 
the  rivers  and  forests  of  Caudebec,  which  position  he 
had  resigned  in  1790  for  a  post  in  the  municipal  ad- 
ministration at  Rouen.  In  the  year  IV  he  was  chief 
of  the  Bureau  of  Public  Instruction,  but  in  reality  he 
alone  did  all  the  work  of  the  mayoralty,  and  also 
some  of  that  of  the  Department,  and  did  it  so  well 
that  he  found  himself,  in  1802,  in  the  post  of  secre- 
tary-in-chief of  the  municipality.     In  this  capacity  he 


ISO    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

gave  and  inspected  all  passports.  For  five  years  past 
no  one  had  been  able  to  travel  in  the  Seine-Inferieure 
without  going  through  his  office.  As  he  had  a  good 
memory  and  his  business  interested  him,  he  had  a 
very  clear  recollection  of  all  whom  he  had  scrutinised 
and  passed.  He  remembered  very  well  having  signed 
the  passport  that  took  d'Ache  from  Gournay  to  Saint- 
Germain-en-Laye  in  1803,  and  retained  a  good  idea 
of  the  robust  man,  tall,  with  a  high  forehead  and 
black  hair.  He  remembered,  moreover,  that  d'Ache's 
"  toe-nails  were  so  grown  into  his  flesh  that  he  walked 
on  them." 

Since  this  meeting  with  d'Ache,  Licquet's  appoint- 
ments had  increased  considerably ;  while  retaining  his 
place  as  secretary-general,  he  had  obtained  the  direc- 
torship of  police,  and  fulfilled  his  functions  with  so 
much  energy,  authority  and  cunning  that  no  one 
dreamt  of  criticising  his  encroachments.  He  was, 
besides,  much  feared  for  his  bitter  tongue,  but  he 
pleased  the  prefect,  who  liked  his  wit  and  appreciated 
his  cleverness.  From  the  beginning  Licquet  was  fas- 
cinated by  the  idea  of  discovering  the  elusive  con- 
spirator and  thus  demonstrating  his  adroitness  to  the 
police  of  Paris;  and  his  satisfaction  was  profound, 
when,  on  the  17th  of  August,  1807,  three  days  after 
having  arranged  a  plan  of  campaign  and  issued  instruc- 
tions to  his  subordinates,  he  was  informed  that  M.  d' 
Ache  was  confined  in  the  Conciergerie  of  the  Palais 
de  Justice.  He  rushed  to  the  Palais  and  ordered  the 
prisoner  to  be  brought  before  him.  It  was  "  Tourlour," 
d* Ache's  inoffensive  brother  Placide,  arrested  at  Saint- 


THE  YELLOW  HORSE  151 

Denis-du-Bosguerard,  where  he  had  gone  to  visit  his 
old  mother.  Licquet*s  disappointment  was  cruel,  for 
he  had  nothing  to  expect  from  Tourlour ;  but  to  hide 
his  chagrin  he  questioned  him  about  his  brother 
(whom  Placide  declared  he  had  not  seen  for  four 
years)  and  how  he  passed  his  time,  which  was  spent, 
said  Tourlour,  when  he  was  not  in  the  Rue  Saint- 
Patrice,  between  Saint-Denis-du-Bosguerard  and  Mme. 
de  Combray's  chateau  near  Gaillon.  Placide  declared 
that  he  only  desired  to  live  in  peace,  and  to  care  for 
his  aged  and  infirm  mother.  This  was  the  second 
time  Licquet's  attention  had  been  attracted  by  the  name 
of  Mme.  de  Combray.  He  had  already  read  it,  inci- 
dentally, in  the  report  of  Flierle's  examination,  and 
with  the  instinct  of  a  detective,  for  whom  a  single 
word  will  often  unravel  a  whole  plot,  he  had  a  sudden 
intuition  that  in  it  lay  the  key  to  the  entire  affair. 
Tourlour's  imprudent  admission,  which  was  to  bring 
terrible  catastrophes  on  Mme.  de  Combray's  head, 
gave  Licquet  a  thread  that  was  to  lead  him  through 
the  maze  that  CafFarelli  had  refused  to  enter. 

Nearly  a  month  earlier,  Mme.  de  Combray  had 
expressly  forbidden  Soyer  to  talk  about  her  return 
with  Lefebre.  She  had  shut  herself  up  in  her  room 
with  Catherine  Querey,  her  chambermaid  ;  the  lawyer 
had  shared  Bonnoeil's  room.  Next  day,  Tuesday, 
July  28th,  the  Marquise  had  shown  Lefebre  the 
apartments  prepared  for  the  King  and  the  hiding- 
places  in  the  great  chateau  ;  Bonnoeil  showed  him 
copies  of  d' Ache's  manifesto,  and  the  Due  d'Enghien's 
funeral  oration,  which  they  read,  with  deep  respect, 


152    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

after  dinner.  Towards  evening  Soyer  announced  the 
postmaster  of  Gaillon,  a  friend  who  had  often 
rendered  valuable  services  to  the  people  at  Tourne- 
but.  He  had  just  heard  that  the  commandant  had 
received  orders  from  Paris  to  search  the  chateau,  and 
would  do  so  immediately.  Mme.  de  Combray  was 
not  at  all  disturbed ;  she  had  long  been  prepared  for 
this,  and  ordered  Soyer  to  take  some  provisions  to  the 
little  chateau,  where  she  repaired  that  night  with 
Lefebre.  There  were  two  comfortable  hiding-places 
there  whose  mechanism  she  explained  to  the  lawyer. 
One  of  them  was  large  enough  to  contain  two 
mattresses  side  by  side;  she  showed  Lefebre  in, 
slipped  after  him,  and  shut  the  panels  upon  them 
both.  Bonnoeil  remained  alone  at  Tournebut.  The 
quiet  life  he  had  led  for  the  last  two  years  removed 
him  from  any  suspicion,  and  he  prepared  to  receive 
the  gendarmes  who  appeared  at  dawn  on  Friday.  The 
commandant  showed  his  order,  and  Bonnoeil,  confi- 
dent of  the  issue,  and  completely  cool,  opened  all  the 
doors  and  gave  up  the  keys.  The  soldiers  rummaged 
the  chateau  from  top  to  bottom.  Nothing  could  have 
been  more  innocent  than  the  appearance  of  this  great 
mansion,  most  of  whose  apartments  seemed  to  have 
been  long  unoccupied,  and  Bonnoeil  stated  that  his 
mother  had  gone  a  fortnight  ago  to  Lower  Normandy, 
where  she  went  every  year  about  this  time  to  collect 
her  rents  and  visit  her  property  near  Falaise.  When 
the  servants  were  interrogated  they  were  all  unanimous 
in  declaring  that  with  the  exception  of  Soyer  and  Mile. 
Querey,  they  had  seen  the  Marquise  start  for  Falaise, 


THE  YELLOW  HORSE  153 

and  did  not  know  of  her  return.  The  commandant 
returned  to  Gaillon  with  his  men,  little  suspecting 
that  the  woman  he  was  looking  for  was  calmly  play- 
ing cards  with  one  of  her  accomplices  a  few  steps 
away,  while  they  were  searching  her  house. 

She  lived  with  her  guest  for  eight  days  in  this 
house  with  the  false  bottom,  so  to  speak,  never 
appearing  outside,  wandering  through  the  unfurnished 
rooms  during  the  day,  and  returning  to  her  hiding- 
place  at  night. 

They  did  not  return  to  Tournebut  till  August  4th. 
The  same  day  Soyer  received  a  letter  from  Mme. 
Acquet,  on  the  envelope  of  which  she  had  written, 
"  For  Mama."  It  was  an  answer  to  the  letter  sent 
to  Croissanville  by  Lefebre.  Mme.  Acquet  said  that 
her  mother's  departure  did  her  a  great  wrong,  but  that 
all  danger  was  over  and  Lefebre  could  return  to 
Falaise  without  fear.  As  for  herself,  she  had  found 
refuge  with  a  reliable  person ;  the  Abbe  Moraud,  vicar 
of  Guibray,  would  take  charge  of  her  correspondence. 
Of  the  proposal  which  had  been  made  her  to  take 
refuge  at  Tournebut,  not  a  word.  Evidently  Mme. 
Acquet  preferred  the  retreat  she  had  chosen  for  her- 
self— where,  she  did  not  say.  Mme.  de  Combray, 
either  hurt  at  this  unjustifiable  defiance,  or  afraid  that 
she  would  prove  herself  an  accomplice  in  the  theft  if 
she  did  not  separate  herself  entirely  from  Mme. 
Acquet,  made  her  maid  reply  that  it  was  "  too  late 
for  her  to  come  now,  that  she  was  very  ill  and  could 
receive  no  one."  And  thus  the  feeling  that  divided 
these  two  women  was  clearly  defined. 


154     THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

Lefebre  undertook  to  give  the  letter  to  Abbe 
Moraud;  he  was  in  a  great  hurry  to  return  to 
Falaise,  where  he  felt  much  safer  than  at  Tourne- 
but.  He  left  the  same  day,  after  having  chosen  a 
yellow  horse  from  the  stables  of  the  chateau.  He  put 
on  top-boots  and  an  overcoat  belonging  to  Bonnoeil, 
and  left  by  a  little  door  in  the  wall  of  the  park.  Soyer 
led  him  as  far  as  the  Moulin  des  Quatre- Vents  on  the 
highroad.  Lefebre  took  the  Neubourg  road  so  as  to 
avoid  Evreux  and  Louviers.  Two  days  after,  he 
breakfasted  at  Glatigny  with  Lanoe,  leaving  there  his 
boots,  overcoat,  and  the  yellow  horse,  and  started 
gaily  for  Falaise,  where  he  arrived  in  the  evening. 
He  saw  Mme.  Acquet  on  the  7th,  and  found  her 
completely  at  her  ease. 

When  Lanoe  had  abandoned  her  at  the  farm  of 
Villeneuve,  twelve  days  before,  Mme.  Acquet  had 
entreated  so  pitifully  that  a  woman  who  was  there 
had  gone  to  fetch  Collin,  one  of  the  servants  at  La 
Bijude;  Mme.  de  Combray's  daughter  had  returned 
with  him  to  Falaise,  on  one  of  the  farmer's  horses. 
She  dared  not  go  to  the  house  in  the  Rue  du  Tripot, 
and  therefore  stopped  with  an  honest  woman  named 
Chauvel,  who  did  the  washing  for  the  Combray 
family.  She  was  drawn  there  by  the  fact  that  the 
son,  Victor  Chauvel,  was  one  of  the  gendarmes  who 
had  been  at  Donnay  the  night  before,  and  she  wanted 
to  find  out  from  him  if  the  Buquets  had  denounced 
her. 

She  went  to  the  Chauvels'  under  pretence  of  get- 
ting Captain  Manginot's  address.     The  gendarme  was 


THE  YELLOW  HORSE  155 

at  supper.  He  was  a  man  of  thirty-six,  an  old  hussar, 
and  a  good  fellow,  but  although  married  and  the  father 
of  three  children,  known  as  a  "  gadder,  and  fond  of 
the  sex."  "  When  women  are  around,  Chauvel  for- 
gets everything,"  his  comrades  used  to  say.  He  now 
saw  Mme.  Acquet  for  the  first  time,  and  to  her  ques- 
tions replied  that  her  name  had  indeed  been  men- 
tioned, and  that  Manginot,  who  was  at  the  "  Grand- 
Ture,"  was  looking  for  her.  The  young  woman 
began  to  cry.  She  implored  Mme.  Chauvel  to  keep 
her,  promised  to  pay  her,  and  appealed  to  her  pity,  so 
that  the  washerwoman  was  touched.  She  had  an 
attic  in  the  third  story,  some  bedding  was  thrown  on 
the  floor,  and  from  that  place  Mme.  Acquet  wrote 
to  tell  her  mother  that  she  had  found  a  safe  retreat. 

It  was  very  safe  indeed,  and  one  can  understand  that 
she  did  not  feel  the  need  of  telling  too  precisely  the 
conditions  of  the  hospitality  she  was  given.  Is  it 
necessary  to  insist  on  the  sort  of  relations  established 
from  the  moment  of  her  arrival  at  the  Chauvels,  be- 
tween the  poor  woman  whose  fear  of  capture  killed 
every  other  feeling  and  the  soldier  on  whom  her  fate 
depended  ?  Chauvel  had  only  to  say  one  word  to  in- 
sure her  arrest ;  she  yielded  to  him,  he  held  his  tongue 
and  the  existence  which  then  began  for  them  both 
was  so  miserable  and  so  tragic  that  it  excites  more 
pity  than  disgust.  Mme.  Acquet  had  only  one 
thought — to  escape  the  scaffold  ;  Chauvel  had  only 
one  wish — to  keep  this  unexpected  mistress,  more 
dear  because  he  sacrificed  for  her  his  career,  his  honour 
and   perhaps  his  life.     At  first  things  went   calmly 


156     THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

enough.  No  warrant  had  been  issued  for  the  fugitive, 
and  in  the  evening  she  used  to  go  out  disguised  with 
Chauvel.  Soon  she  grew  bolder  and  walked  in  broad 
daylight  in  the  streets  of  Falaise.  On  the  15th  of 
August  Lefebre  had  Lanoe  to  breakfast  and  invited 
her  also ;  they  talked  freely,  and  Mme.  Acquet  made 
no  secret  of  the  fact  that  she  was  living  with  the 
Chauvels  and  that  the  son  kept  her  informed  of  all 
orders  received  from  Caen  or  Paris.  Lefebre  led  the 
conversation  round  to  the  "  treasure,"  for  the  money 
hidden  at  the  Buquets  had  excited  much  cupidity. 
Bureau  de  Placene,  as  "banker"  to  the  Chouans,  had 
advanced  the  claims  of  the  royal  exchequer ;  Allain 
and  Lerouge  the  baker — who  showed  entire  disinter- 
estedness— had  gone  to  Donnay,  and  with  great 
trouble  got  1,200  francs  from  the  Buquets  ;  five  times 
Lerouge  had  gone  in  a  little  cart,  by  appointment,  to 
the  forest  of  Harcourt,  where  he  waited  under  a  large 
tree  near  the  crossroad  till  Buquet  brought  him  some 
money.  In  this  way  Placene  received  12,000  francs 
in  crowns,  "so  coated  with  mud  that  his  wife  was 
obliged  to  wash  them."  But  Joseph's  relations,  who 
had  been  arrested  when  he  fled,  swore  that  he  alone 
knew  where  the  rest  of  the  money  was  buried,  and  no 
one  could  get  any  more  of  it. 

While  at  breakfast  with  the  lawyer  and  Lanoe 
Mme.  Acquet  begged  the  latter  to  undertake  a  search. 
She  believed  the  money  was  buried  in  the  field  of 
buckwheat  between  the  Buquets'  house  and  the  walls 
of  the  chateau,  and  wanted  Lanoe  to  dig  there,  but 
he  refused.     She  seemed  to  have  lost  her  head  com- 


THE  YELLOW  HORSE  157 

pletely.  She  planned  to  throw  herself  at  the  Em- 
peror's feet  imploring  his  pardon ;  she  talked  of  re- 
covering the  stolen  money,  returning  it  to  the  gov- 
ernment, adding  to  it  her  "  dot,"  and  leaving  France 
forever.  When  she  returned  in  the  evening  greatly 
excited,  she  told  the  washervi^oman  of  her  plans ;  she 
dwelt  on  the  idea  for  three  days,  and  thought  she  had 
only  to  restore  the  stolen  money  to  guarantee  herself 
against  punishment. 

Chauvel  was  on  duty.  When  he  returned  on  the 
19th  he  brought  some  news.  Caffarelli  was  to  arrive 
in  Falaise  the  next  day,  to  interrogate  Mme.  Acquet. 
The  night  passed  in  tears  and  agony.  The  poor 
woman  attempted  suicide,  and  Chauvel  seized  the 
poison  she  was  about  to  swallow.  An  obscure  point 
is  reached  here.  Even  if  Caffarelli's  ease  and  indif- 
ference are  admitted,  it  is  hard  to  believe  that  he  was 
an  active  accomplice  in  the  plot ;  but  on  the  other 
hand,  it  is  surprising  that  Mme.  Acquet  did  not  fly 
as  soon  as  she  heard  of  his  intended  visit,  and  that 
she  consented  to  appear  before  him  as  if  she  were 
sure  of  finding  help  and  protection.  The  interview 
took  place  in  the  house  of  the  mayor,  M.  de  Saint- 
Leonard,  a  relative  of  Mme.  de  Combray's,  and  re- 
sembled a  family  council  rather  than  an  examination. 
Caffarelli  was  more  paternal  than  his  role  of  judge 
warranted,  and  it  was  long  believed  in  the  family  that 
Mme.  de  Combray's  remote  relationship  with  the 
Empress  Josephine's  family,  which  they  had  been 
careful  not  to  boast  of  before,  was  drawn  upon  to 
soften  the  susceptible  prefect.     Whatever  the  reason, 


158     THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

Mme.  Acquet  left  the  mayor's  completely  reassured, 
told  Mme.  Chauvel  that  she  was  going  away,  and 
took  many  messages  from  the  good  woman  to  Mme. 
de  Combray,  with  whom  she  said  she  was  going  to 
spend  several  days  at  Tournebut.  On  the  22d  she 
made  a  bundle  of  her  belongings,  and  taking  the  arm 
of  the  gendarme,  left  the  washerwoman's  house  dis- 
guised as  a  peasant. 

Life  at  Tournebut  resumed  its  usual  course  after 
Lefebre's  departure.  Mme.  de  Combray,  satisfied 
that  her  daughter  was  safe,  and  that  the  prefect  of 
Calvados  even  if  he  suspected  her,  would  never  ven- 
ture to  cause  her  arrest,  went  fearlessly  among  her 
neighbours.  She  was  not  aware  that  the  enquiry  had 
passed  from  CafFarelli's  hands  into  those  of  the  pre- 
fect of  Rouen,  and  was  now  managed  by  a  man 
whose  malignity  and  stubbornness  would  not  be  easily 
discouraged. 

Licquet  had  taken  a  fortnight  to  study  the  affair. 
His  only  clues  were  Flierle's  ambiguous  replies  and 
the  Buquets'  cautious  confessions,  but  during  the 
years  that  he  had  eagerly  devoted  to  detective  work 
as  an  amateur,  he  had  laid  up  a  good  store  of  sus- 
picions. The  failure  of  the  gendarmes  at  Tournebut 
had  convinced  him  that  this  old  manor-house,  so 
peaceful  of  aspect,  hid  terrible  secrets,  and  that  its 
occupants  had  arranged  within  it  inaccessible  retreats. 
Then  he  changed  his  tactics.  Mme.  de  Combray 
and  Bonnoeil  had  gone  in  perfect  confidence  to  spend 
the  afternoon  at  Gaillon ;  when  they  returned  to 
Tournebut  in  the  evening  they  were  suddenly  stopped 


THE  YELLOW  HORSE  159 

by  a  detachment  of  gendarmes  posted  across  the  road. 
They  were  obliged  to  give  their  names ;  the  officer 
showed  a  warrant,  and  they  all  returned  to  the  chateau, 
which  was  occupied  by  soldiers.  The  Marquise  pro- 
tested indignantly  against  the  invasion  of  her  house, 
but  was  forced  to  be  present  at  a  search  that  was 
begun  immediately  and  lasted  all  the  evening.  To- 
wards midnight  she  and  her  son  were  put  into  a  car- 
riage with  two  gendarmes  and  taken  under  escort  to 
Rouen,  where,  at  dawn,  they  were  thrown  into  the 
Conciergerie  of  the  Palais  de  Justice. 

Licquet  was  only  half  satisfied  with  the  result  of 
the  expedition  ;  he  had  hoped  to  take  d'Ache,  whom 
he  believed  to  be  hidden  at  Tournebut  j  the  police 
had  arrested  Mme.  Levasseur  and  Jean-Baptiste 
Caqueray,  lately  married  to  Louise  d'Ache  ;  but  of 
the  conspirator  himself  there  was  no  trace.  For 
three  years  this  extraordinary  man  had  eluded  the 
police.  Was  it  to  be  believed  that  he  had  lived  all 
this  time,  buried  in  some  oubliette  at  Tournebut,  and 
could  one  expect  that  Mme.  de  Combray  would  re- 
veal the  secret  of  his  retreat  ? 

As  soon  as  she  arrived  at  the  Conciergerie,  Licquet, 
without  showing  himself,  had  gone  to  "  study "  his 
prisoner.  Like  an  old,  caged  lioness,  this  woman  of 
sixty-seven  behaved  with  surprising  energy ;  she 
showed  no  evidence  of  depression  or  shame ;  she  did 
as  she  liked  in  the  prison,  complained  of  the  food, 
grumbled  all  day,  and  raged  at  the  gaolers.  There  was 
no  reason  to  hope  that  she  would  belie  her  character, 
nor  to  count  on  an  emotion  she  did  not  feel  to  obtain 


i6o    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

any  information  from  her.  The  prefect  had  her 
brought  in  a  carriage  to  his  house  on  August  23d, 
and  interrogated  her  for  two  days.  With  the  expe- 
rience and  astuteness  of  an  old  offender,  the  Marquise 
assumed  complete  frankness ;  but  she  only  confessed 
to  things  she  could  not  deny  with  success.  Licquet 
asked  several  questions  ;  she  did  not  reply  until  she 
had  caused  them  to  be  repeated  several  times,  under 
pretence  that  she  did  not  understand  them.  She 
struggled  desperately,  arguing,  quibbling,  fighting  foot 
by  foot.  If  she  admitted  knowing  d'Ache  and  hav- 
ing frequently  offered  him  hospitality,  she  positively 
denied  all  knowledge  of  his  actual  residence.  In 
short,  when  Savoye-RoUin  and  Licquet  sent  her  back 
to  the  Conciergerie,  they  felt  that  they  had  had  the 
worst  of  it  and  gained  nothing.  Bonnoeil,  when  his 
turn  came  told  them  nothing  but  what  they  already 
knew,  and  Placide  d'Ache  flew  into  a  rage  and  denied 
everything. 

The  prefect  and  his  acolyte  were  feeling  somewhat 
abashed  at  their  failure,  when  the  concierge  who  had 
taken  Mme.  de  Combray  back  to  the  Palais  asked  to 
speak  to  them.  He  told  them  that  in  the  carriage  the 
Marquise  had  offered  him  a  large  sum  if  he  would 
take  some  letters  to  one  of  the  prisoners.  Accus- 
tomed to  these  requests  he  had  said  neither  yes  nor  no, 
but  had  told  "  the  Combray  woman  "  that  he  would 
see  her  at  night,  when  going  the  rounds,  and  he  had 
come  to  get  the  prefect's  orders  concerning  this  cor- 
respondence. Licquet  urged  that  the  concierge  be 
authorised  to  receive  the  letters.     He  hoped  by  inter- 


THE  YELLOW  HORSE  i6i 

cepting  them  to  learn  much  from  the  confidences  and 
advice  the  Marquise  would  give  her  fellovi^-prisoners. 
The  idea  W2is  at  first  very  repugnant  to  Savoye- 
Rollin,  but  the  Marquise's  proposal  seemed  to  estab- 
lish her  guilt  so  thoroughly,  that  he  did  not  feel 
obliged  to  be  delicate  and  consented,  not  without 
throwing  on  his  secretary-general  (one  of  Licquet's 
titles)  the  responsibility  for  the  proceeding.  Having 
obtained  this  concession  Licquet  took  hold  of  the 
enquiry,  and  found  it  a  good  field  for  the  employment 
of  his  particular  talents.  No  duel  was  ever  more 
pitiless;  never  did  a  detective  show  more  ingenuity 
and  duplicity.  From  "  love  of  the  art,"  from  sheer 
delight  in  it,  Licquet  worked  himself  up  against  his 
prisoners  with  a  passion  that  would  be  inexplicable, 
did  not  his  letters  reveal  the  intense  joy  the  struggle 
gave  him.  He  felt  no  hatred  towards  his  victims,  but 
only  a  ferocious  satisfaction  in  seeing  them  fall  into 
the  traps  he  prepared  and  in  unveiling  the  mysteries 
of  a  plot  whose  political  significance  seemed  entirely 
indifferent  to  him. 

With  the  keenest  anticipation  he  awaited  the  time 
when  Mme.  de  Combray's  letters  to  Bonnoeil  and 
"Tourlour"  should  be  handed  to  him.  He  had  to 
be  patient  till  next  day,  and  this  first  letter  told  noth- 
ing ;  the  Marquise  gave  her  accomplices  a  sketch  of 
her  examination,  and  did  it  so  artfully  that  Licquet 
suspected  her  of  having  known  that  the  letter  was  to 
pass  through  his  hands.  The  same  day  the  con- 
cierge gave  him  another  letter  as  insignificant  as  the 
first,  which,  however,  ended  with  this  sentence,  whose 


i62     THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

perusal  puzzled  Licquet :  "  Do  you  not  know  that 
Tourlour's  brother  has  burnt  the  muslin  fichu  ?  " 

''  Tourlour's  brother  " — that  was  d'Ache.  Had 
he  recently  returned  to  Tournebut  ?  Was  he  still 
there  ?  Another  letter,  given  to  the  gaoler  by  Bon- 
noeil,  answered  these  questions  affirmatively.  It  was 
addressed  to  a  man  of  business  named  Legrand  in  the 
Rue  Cauchoise,  and  ran  thus  :  "  I  implore  you  to 
start  at  once  for  Tournebut  without  telling  any  one  of 
the  object  of  your  journey ;  go  to  Grosmenil  (the 
little  chateau),  see  the  woman  Bachelet,  and  burn 
everything  she  may  have  that  seems  suspicious ;  you 
will  do  us  a  great  service.  Return  this  letter  to  me. 
Tell  Soyer  that  if  any  one  asks  if  M.  d'Ache  has  re- 
turned, it  is  two  years  since  he  was  seen  at.  Tourne- 
but." 

That  same  evening  the  order  for  Soyer's  arrest  was 
sent  to  Gaillon,  and  twelve  hours  later  he  also  was  in 
the  Conciergerie  at  Rouen.  This  did  not  prevent 
Bonnoeil's  writing  to  him  the  next  day,  Licquet,  as 
may  be  imagined,  not  having  informed  the  prisoners 
of  his  arrest. 

"  I  beg  you,  my  dear  Soyer,  to  look  in  the  two  or 
three  desks  in  my  mother's  room,  and  see  if  you  can- 
not find  anything  that  could  compromise  her,  above 
all  any  of  M.  Delorieres*  (d' Ache's)  writing.  De- 
stroy it  all.  If  you  are  asked  how  long  it  is  since 
M.  Delorieres  was  at  Tournebut,  say  he  has  not  been 
there  for  nearly  two  years.  Tell  this  to  Collin,  to 
Catin,  and  to  the  yard  girl.     .     .     ." 

Licquet  carefully  copied  these  letters  and  then  sent 


THE  YELLOW  HORSE  163 

them  to  their  destination,  hoping  that  the  answers 
would  give  him  some  light.  In  his  frequent  visits  to 
the  prisoners  he  dared  not  venture  on  the  slightest 
allusion  to  the  confidences  they  exchanged,  for  fear 
that  they  might  suspect  the  fidelity  of  their  messenger, 
and  refuse  his  help.  Thus,  many  points  remained 
obscure  to  the  detective.  The  next  letter  from  Bon- 
noeil  to  Soyer  contained  this  sentence :  "  Put  the 
small  curtains  on  the  window  of  the  place  where  I 
told  you  to  bury  the  nail.  .  .  ."  We  can  imag- 
ine Licquet  with  his  head  in  his  hands  trying  to  solve 
this  enigma.  The  muslin  fichu,  the  little  curtains, 
the  nail — was  this  a  cipher  decided  on  in  advance 
between  the  prisoners  ?  And  all  these  precautions 
seemed  to  be  taken  for  the  mysterious  d'Ache  whose 
safety  seemed  to  be  their  sole  desire.  A  word  from 
Mme.  de  Combray  to  Bonnoeil  leaves  no  doubt  as  to 
the  conspirator's  recent  sojourn  at  Tournebut :  "  I 
wish  Mme.  K.  .  .  .  to  go  to  my  house  and  see 
with  So  ...  if  Delor  .  .  .  has  not  left 
some  paper  in  the  oil-cloth  of  the  little  room  near 
the  room  where  the  cooks  slept.  Let  him  look 
everywhere  and  burn  everything."  This  time  the  in- 
formation seemed  so  sure  that  Licquet  started  for 
Tournebut,  which  had  been  occupied  by  gendarmes 
for  a  fortnight ;  he  took  Soyer  to  guide  him,  and  the 
commissary  of  police,  Legendre,  to  make  a  report 
of  the  search. 

They  arrived  at  Tournebut  on  the  morning  of  Sep- 
tember 5th.  Licquet,  who  was  much  exhilarated  by 
this  hunt  for  conspirators,  must  have  felt  a  singular 


i64    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

emotion  on  approaching  the  mysterious  mansion,  ob- 
ject of  all  his  thoughts.  He  took  it  all  in  at  a 
glance ;  he  was  struck  by  the  isolation  of  the  chateau, 
away  from  the  road  below  the  woods ;  he  found  that 
it  could  be  entered  at  twenty  different  places,  without 
one's  being  seen.  He  sent  away  the  servants,  posted 
a  gendarme  at  each  door,  and  conducted  by  Soyer, 
entered  the  apartments. 

First  he  went  to  the  brick  wing  built  by  de  Marillac, 
where  was  a  vast  chamber  occupied  by  Bonnoeil  and 
leading  to  the  great  hall,  astoundingly  high  and  solemn 
in  spite  of  its  dilapidation,  with  a  brick  floor,  a  ceil- 
ing with  great  beams,  and  immense  windows  looking 
over  the  terrace  towards  the  Seine.  By  a  double  door 
with  monumental  ironwork,  set  in  a  wall  as  thick  as 
a  bastille,  Mme.  de  Combray's  apartments  were 
reached,  the  first  room  wainscoted,  then  a  boudoir, 
next  a  small  room  hidden  by  a  staircase,  and  com- 
municating with  a  lot  of  other  small,  low  rooms.  A 
long  passage,  lighted  by  three  windows  opening  on 
the  terrace,  led,  leaving  the  Marquise's  bedchamber 
on  the  right,  to  the  most  ancient  part  of  the  chateau 
the  front  of  which  had  been  recently  restored.  Hav- 
ing crossed  the  landing  of  the  steps  leading  to  the 
garden,  one  reached  the  salon ;  then  the  dining-room, 
where  there  was  a  stone  staircase  leading  to  the  first 
floor.  On  this  were  a  long  passage  and  three  cham- 
bers looking  out  on  the  valley  of  the  Seine,  and  a  lot 
of  small  rooms  that  were  not  used.  All  the  rest  was 
lofts,  where  the  framework  of  the  roofs  crossed. 
When   a  door  was   opened,  frightened   bats    flapped 


THE  YELLOW  HORSE  165 

their  wings  with  a  great  noise  in  the  darkness  of  this 
forest  of  enormous,  worm-eaten  beams.  In  fact, 
everything  looked  very  simple;  there  was  no  sign 
whatever  of  a  hiding-place.  The  furniture  was 
opened,  the  walls  sounded,  and  the  panels  examined 
without  finding  any  hollow  place.  It  was  now  Soyer's 
turn  to  appear.  Whether  he  feared  for  himself,  or 
whether  Licquet  had  made  him  understand  that  denial 
was  useless,  Mme.  de  Combray's  confidential  man 
consented  to  guide  the  detectives.  He  took  a  bunch 
of  keys  and  followed  by  Licquet  and  Legendre,  went 
up  to  a  little  room  under  the  roof  of  a  narrow  build- 
ing next  to  Marillac's  wing.  This  room  had  only 
one  window,  on  the  north,  with  a  bit  of  green  stuff 
for  a  curtain ;  its  only  furniture  was  a  miserable 
wooden  bed  drawn  into  the  middle  of  the  room. 
Licquet  and  the  commissary  examined  the  partitions 
and  had  them  sounded.  Soyer  allowed  them  to  rum- 
mage in  all  the  corners,  then,  when  they  had  given  up 
all  idea  of  finding  anything  themselves,  he  went  up  to 
the  bed,  put  his  hand  under  the  mattress  and  removed 
a  nail.  They  immediately  heard  the  fall  of  a  weight 
behind  the  wall,  which  opened,  disclosing  a  chamber 
large  enough  to  hold  fifteen  persons.  In  it  were  a 
wooden  bench,  a  large  chafing-dish,  silver  candle- 
sticks, a  trunk  full  of  papers  and  letters,  two  packets 
of  hair  of  different  colours,  and  some  treatises  on 
games.  They  seized  among  other  things,  the  funeral 
oration  of  the  Due  d'Enghien,  copied  by  Placide,  and 
the  passport  d'Ache  had  obtained  at  Rouen  in  1803, 
which  was  signed  by  Licquet.     When  they  had  put 


i66     THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

everything  in  a  bag  and  closed  the  partition,  when 
they  had  sufficiently  admired  the  mechanism  which 
left  no  crack  or  opening  visible,  Soyer,  still  followed 
by  two  policemen,  went  over  the  whole  chateau, 
climbed  to  the  loft,  and  stopped  at  last  in  a  little  room 
at  the  end  of  the  building.  It  was  full  of  soiled 
linen  hung  on  ropes ;  a  thick  beam  was  fixed  almost 
level  with  the  ground,  the  whole  length  of  the  wall 
embellished  with  shelves  supported  by  brackets. 
Soyer  thrust  his  hand  into  a  small,  worm-eaten  hole 
in  the  beam,  and  drawing  out  a  piece  of  iron,  fitted  it 
on  a  nail  that  seemed  to  be  driven  into  one  of  the 
brackets.  Instantly  the  shelves  folded  up,  a  door 
opened  in  the  wall,  and  they  entered  a  room  large 
enough  to  hold  fifty  people  with  ease.  A  window — 
impossible  to  discover  from  the  outside — opened  on 
the  roof  of  the  chapel,  and  gave  light  and  air  to  this 
apartment;  it  contained  only  a  large  wardrobe,  in 
which  were  an  earthen  dish  and  an  altar  stone. 

And  so  this  old  manor-house,  with  its  venerable 
and  homelike  air,  was  arranged  as  a  resort  for  brig- 
ands, and  an  arsenal  and  retreat  for  a  little  army  of 
conspirators.  For  Soyer  also  revealed  the  secrets  of 
the  oubliettes  of  the  little  chateau,  whose  unfurnished 
rooms  could  shelter  a  considerable  garrison  ;  they  only 
found  there  three  trunks  full  of  silver,  marked  with  so 
many  different  arms  that  Licquet  believed  it  must 
have  come  from  the  many  thefts  perpetrated  during 
the  last  fifteen  years  in  the  neighbourhood.  On  ex- 
amination it  proved  to  be  nothing  of  the  sort,  but 
that  all  these  different  pieces  of  silver  bore  the  arms 


THE  YELLOW  HORSE  167 

of  branches  of  the  families  of  Brunelle  and  Com- 
bray ;  but  even  though  he  was  obliged  to  withdraw 
his  first  supposition,  Licquet  was  firm  in  attributing 
to  the  owners  of  Tournebut  all  the  misdeeds  that  had 
been  committed  in  the  region  since  the  Directory. 
These  perfect  hiding-places,  this  chateau  on  the  banks 
of  the  river,  in  the  woods  between  two  roads,  like  the 
rocky  nests  in  which  the  robber-chiefs  of  the  middle 
ages  fortified  themselves,  explained  so  well  the  attacks 
on  the  coaches,  the  bands  of  brigands  who  disap- 
peared suddenly,  and  remained  undiscoverable,  that  the 
detective  gave  free  rein  to  his  imagination.  He  per- 
suaded himself  that  d*Ache  was  there,  buried  in  some 
hollow  wall  of  which  even  Soyer  had  not  the  secret, 
and  as  the  only  hope,  in  this  event,  was  to  starve  him 
out,  Licquet  sent  all  of  Mme.  de  Combray's  servants 
away,  and  left  a  handful  of  soldiers  in  the  chateau, 
the  keys  of  which,  as  well  as  the  administration  of 
the  property,  he  left  in  the  hands  of  the  mayor  of 
Aubevoye. 

His  first  thought  on  returning  to  Rouen  was  for 
his  prisoners.  They  had  continued  to  correspond 
during  his  absence,  and  copies  of  all  their  letters  were 
faithfully  delivered  to  him;  but  they  seemed  to  have 
told  each  other  all  they  had  that  was  interesting  to 
tell,  and  the  correspondence  threatened  to  become 
monotonous.  The  imagination  of  the  detective 
found  a  way  of  reawakening  the  interest.  One 
evening,  when  every  one  was  asleep  in  the  prison, 
Licquet  gave  the  gaoler  orders  to  open  several  doors 
hastily,  to  push  bolts,  and  walk  about  noisily  in  the 


i68     THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

corridors,  and  when,  next  day,  Mme.  de  Combray 
enquired  the  cause  of  all  this  hubbub,  she  was  easily 
induced  to  believe  that  Lefebre  had  been  arrested  at 
Falaise  and  imprisoned  during  the  night.  An  hour 
later  the  concierge,  with  a  great  show  of  secrecy, 
gave  the  Marquise  a  note  written  by  Licquet,  in 
which  "Lefebre"  informed  her  of  his  arrest,  and 
said  that  he  had  disguised  his  writing  as  an  act  of 
prudence.  The  stratagem  was  entirely  successful. 
Mme.  de  Combray  answered,  and  her  letter  was  im- 
mediately given  to  Licquet,  who,  awaiting  some 
definite  information,  was  astonished  to  find  himself 
confronted  with  a  fresh  mystery.  "Let  me  know," 
said  the  Marquise,  "  how  the  horse  went  back ;  that 
no  one  saw  it  anywhere." 

What  horse  ?  What  answer  should  he  give  ?  If 
Lefebre  had  been  really  in  prison,  it  would  have  been 
possible  to  give  a  sensible  reply,  but  without  his  help 
how  could  Licquet  avoid  awakening  her  suspicions  as 
to  the  personality  of  her  correspondent  ?  In  the  role 
of  the  lawyer  he  wrote  a  few  lines,  avoiding  any 
mention  of  the  horse,  and  asking  how  the  examin- 
ations went  off.  To  this  the  Marquise  replied : 
"The  prefect  and  a  bad  fellow  examined  us.  But 
you  do  not  tell  me  if  the  horse  has  been  sent  back, 
and  by  whom.  If  they  asked  me,  what  should  I 
say  ? " 

The  "  bad  fellow "  was  Licquet  himself,  and  he 
knew  it;  but  this  time  he  must  answer.  Hoping 
that  chance  would  favour  him,  he  adopted  an  expedient 
to  gain  time.     He  let  Mme.  de  Combray  hear  that 


THE  YELLOW  HORSE  169 

Lefebre  had  fainted  during  an  examination,  and  was 
not  in  a  condition  to  write.  But  she  did  not  slacken 
her  correspondence,  and  wrote  several  letters  daily  to 
the  lawyer,  which  greatly  increased  Licquet's  per- 
plexity : 

"  Tell  me  what  has  become  of  my  yellow  horse. 
The  police  are  still  at  Tournebut ;  now  if  they  hear 
about  the  horse — you  can  guess  the  rest.  Be  smart 
enough  to  say  that  you  sold  it  at  the  fair  at  Rouen. 
Little  Licquet  is  sharp  and  clever,  but  he  often  lies. 
My  only  worry  is  the  horse ;  they  will  soon  have  the 
clue.  My  hand  trembles ;  can  you  read  this  ?  If  I 
hear  anything  about  the  horse  I  will  let  you  know  at 
once,  but  just  now  I  know  nothing.  Don't  worry 
about  the  saddle  and  bridle.  They  were  sent  to 
Deslorieres,  who  told  me  he  had  received  them." 

This  yellow  horse  assumed  gigantic  proportions  in 
Licquet's  imagination ;  it  haunted  him  day  and  night, 
and  galloped  through  all  his  nightmares.  A  fresh 
search  at  Tournebut  proved  that  the  stables  contained 
only  a  small  donkey  and  four  horses,  instead  of  the 
usual  five,  and  the  peasants  said  that  the  missing 
beast  was  "  reddish,  inclining  to  yellow."  As  the  de- 
tective sent  Real  all  of  Mme.  de  Combray's  letters  in 
his  daily  budget,  they  were  just  as  much  agitated  in 
Paris  over  this  mysterious  animal,  whose  discovery 
was,  as  the  Marquise  said,  the  clue  to  the  whole 
affair.  Whom  had  this  horse  drawn  or  carried .? 
One  of  the  Bourbon  princes,  perhaps  ?  D*Ache  ? 
Mme.  Acquet,  whom  they  were  vainly  seeking 
throughout  Normandy  ?     Licquet  was  obliged  to  con- 


1 70    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

fess  to  his  chiefs  that  he  did  not  know  to  what  occur- 
rence the  story  of  the  horse  referred.  He  felt  that 
the  weight  attached  by  Mme.  de  Combray  to  its  re- 
turn, increased  the  importance  of  knowing  what  it 
had  been  used  for.  "This  is  the  main  point,"  he 
said ;  "  the  horse,  the  saddle  and  bridle  must  be 
found." 

In  the  absence  of  Lefebre,  who  could  have  solved 
the  enigma,  and  whom  CafFarelli  had  not  decided  to 
arrest,  there  remained  one  way  of  discovering  Mme. 
de  Combray's  secret — an  odious  way,  it  is  true,  but 
one  that  Licquet,  in  his  bewilderment,  did  not  hesi- 
tate to  employ.  This  was  to  put  a  spy  with  her,  who 
would  make  her  speak.  There  was  in  the  Concier- 
gerie  at  Rouen  a  woman  named  Delaitre,  who  had 
been  there  for  six  years.  This  woman  was  employed 
in  the  infirmary ;  she  had  good  enough  manners,  ex- 
pressed herself  well,  and  was  about  the  same  age  as 
Mme.  Acquet.  It  was  easy  to  believe  that,  in  return 
for  some  remission  of  her  sentence,  she  would  act  as 
Licquet's  spy.  They  spoke  of  her  to  the  Marquise, 
taking  care  to  represent  her  as  a  royalist,  persecuted 
for  her  opinions.  The  Marquise  expressed  a  wish  to 
see  her ;  Delaitre  played  her  part  to  perfection,  saying 
that  she  had  been  educated  with  Mme.  Acquet  at  the 
convent  of  the  Nouvelles  Catholique,  and  that  she 
felt  honoured  in  sharing  the  prison  of  the  mother  of 
her  old  school  friend.  In  short,  that  evening  she  was 
in  a  position  to  betray  the  Marquise's  confidence  to 
Licquet.  She  had  learned  that  Mme.  Acquet  had  as- 
sisted at  many  of  the  attacks  on  coaches,  dressed  as  a 


THE  YELLOW  HORSE  171 

man.  Mme.  de  Combray  dreaded  nothing  more  than 
to  have  her  daughter  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  police. 
"  If  she  is  taken,"  she  said,  "  she  will  accuse  me." 
The  Marquise  was  resigned  to  her  fate  j  she  knew 
she  was  destined  for  the  scaffold ;  "  after  all,  the 
King  and  the  Queen  had  perished  on  the  guillotine,  and 
she  would  die  there  also."  However,  she  was  anx- 
ious to  know  if  she  could  be  saved  by  paying  a  large 
sum ;  but  not  a  word  was  said  about  the  yellow 
horse. 

The  next  day  she  again  wrote  of  the  fear  she  felt 
for  her  daughter ;  she  would  have  liked  to  warn  her 
to  disguise  herself  and  go  as  a  servant  ten  or  twelve 
leagues  from  Falaise.  "If  she  is  arrested  she  will 
speak,  and  then  I  am  lost,"  she  continued ;  so  that 
Licquet  came  to  the  conclusion  that  the  reason  the 
Marquise  did  not  want  the  yellow  horse  to  be  found 
was  that  it  would  lead  to  the  discovery  of  her  daugh- 
ter. Mme.  Acquet  had  so  successfully  disappeared 
during  the  last  two  weeks  that  Real  was  convinced 
she  had  escaped  to  England.  Nothing  could  be  done 
without  d'Ache  or  Mme.  Acquet.  The  failure  of  the 
pursuit,  showing  the  organised  strength  of  the  royalist 
party  and  the  powerlessness  of  the  government,  would 
justify  CafFarelli's  indolent  neutrality.  On  the  other 
hand,  Licquet  knew  that  failure  spelled  ruin  for  him. 
He  had  made  the  affair  his  business ;  his  prefect, 
Savoye-Rollin,  was  very  half-hearted  about  it,  and 
quite  ready  to  stop  all  proceedings  at  the  slightest 
hitch.  Real  was  even  preparing  to  sacrifice  his 
subordinate  if  need  be,  and  to  the  amiable  letters  at 


172    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

first  received  from  the  ministry  of  police,  succeeded 
curt  orders  that  implied  disfavour.  "  It  is  indispen- 
sable to  find  Mme.  Acquet's  retreat."  "  You  must 
arrest  d'Ache  without  delay,  and  above  all  find  the 
yellow  horse." 

As  if  the  Marquise  were  enjoying  the  confusion 
into  which  the  mention  of  this  phantom  beast  threw 
her  persecutor,  she  continued  to  scribble  on  scraps  of 
paper  which  the  concierge  was  told  to  take  to  the 
lawyer,  who  never  received  them. 

"  There  is  one  great  difficulty  ;  the  yellow  horse  is 
wanted.  I  shall  send  a  safe  and  intelligent  man  to 
the  place  where  it  is,  to  tell  the  people  to  have  it 
killed  twelve  leagues  away  and  skinned  at  once. 
Send  me  in  writing  the  road  he  must  take,  and  the 
people  to  whom  he  must  apply,  so  as  to  be  able  to  do 
it  without  asking  anything.  He  is  strong  and  able 
to  do  fifteen  leagues  a  day.     Send  me  an  answer." 

Mme.  de  Combray  had  applied  to  the  woman 
Delaitre  for  this  "  safe  and  intelligent  man,"  and  the 
latter  had,  at  Licquet's  instance,  offered  the  services 
of  her  husband,  an  honest  royalist,  who  in  reality  did 
not  exist,  but  was  to  be  personated  by  a  man  whom 
Licquet  had  ready  to  send  in  search  of  the  horse  as 
soon  as  its  whereabouts  should  be  determined. 
Lefebre  refused  to  answer  this  question  for  the  same 
reason  that  he  had  refused  to  answer  others,  and  the 
detective  was  obliged  to  confess  his  perplexity  to 
Real.  "  There  is  no  longer  any  trouble  in  inter- 
cepting the  prisoner's  letters ;  the  difficulty  of  sending 
replies  increases  each  day.     You  must  give  me  abso- 


THE  YELLOW  HORSE  173 

lution,  Monsieur,  for  all  the  sins  that  this  affair  has 
caused  me  to  commit ;  for  the  rest,  all  is  fair  in  love 
and  war,  and  surely  we  arc  at  war  with  these  people.'* 
To  which  Real  replied:  "I  cannot  believe  that  the 
horse  only  served  for  Mme.  Acquet's  flight;  they 
would  not  advise  the  strange  precaution  of  taking  it 
twelve  leagues  away,  killing,  and  skinning  it  on  the 
spot.  These  anxieties  show  the  existence  of  some 
grave  oflfence,  for  which  the  horse  was  employed,  and 
which  its  discovery  will  disclose.  You  must  find  out 
the  history  of  this  animal;  how  long  Mme.  de 
Combray  has  had  it,  and  who  owned  it  before."  In 
vain  Licquet  protested  that  he  had  exhausted  his 
supply  of  inventions  and  ruses ;  the  invariable  reply 
was,  "  Find  the  yellow  horse  !  " 

He  cursed  his  own  zeal ;  but  an  unexpected  event 
renewed  his  confidence  and  energy.  Lefebre,  who 
was  arrested  early  in  September,  had  just  been  thrown 
into  the  Conciergerie  at  Rouen.  This  new  card,  if 
well  played,  would  set  everything  right.  It  was  easy 
to  induce  Mme.  de  Combray  to  write  another  letter 
insisting  once  more  on  knowing  "  the  exact  address 
of  the  horse,''  and  the  lawyer  at  last  answered  unsus- 
pectingly, "  With  Lanoe  at  Glatigny,  near  Brette- 
ville-sur-Dives." 

With  Lanoe !  Why  had  Licquet  never  guessed 
it !  This  name,  indeed,  so  often  mentioned  in  the 
declarations  of  the  prisoners,  had  made  no  impression 
on  him.  Mme.  Acquet  was  hidden  there  without 
doubt,  and  he  triumphantly  sent  off  an  express  to 
Real  announcing  the  good  news,  and  sent  two  sharp 


174    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

men  to  Glatigny  at  the  same  time.  They  left  Rouen 
on  September  15th,  and  time  lagged  for  Licquet  while 
awaiting  their  return.  Three  days,  five  days,  ten 
days  passed  without  any  news  of  them.  In  his  im- 
patience he  spent  his  time  worrying  Lefebre.  A  con- 
tinuous correspondence  was  established  between  him 
and  Mme.  de  Combray ;  but  in  his  letters,  as  in  his 
examination,  he  showed  great  mistrust,  and  Licquet 
even  began  to  fear  that  the  prudent  lawyer  would  not 
have  told  where  the  yellow  horse  was,  if  he  had  not 
been  sure  that  the  hunt  for  it  would  be  fruitless. 
And  so  the  detective,  who  had  played  his  last  card, 
was  in  an  agony  during  the  two  weeks'  absence  of  his 
men.  At  last  they  returned,  discomfited  and  weary, 
leading  the  foundered  yellow  horse,  and  accompanied 
by  a  sort  of  colossus,  "  somewhat  resembling  a 
grenadier,"  who  was  no  other  than  Lanoe's  wife. 

The  story  told  by  Licquet's  emissaries  was  as  short 
as  it  was  delusive.  On  arriving  at  Bretteville-sur- 
Dives  they  had  gone  to  the  farm  of  Glatigny,  but  had 
not  found  Lanoe,  whom  CafFarelli  had  arrested  a 
fortnight  before.  His  wife  had  received  them,  and 
after  their  first  enquiry  had  led  them  to  the  famous 
horse's  stable,  enchanted  at  being  relieved  of  the 
famished  beast  who  consumed  all  her  fodder.  The 
men  had  gone  as  far  as  Caen,  and  obtained  the  pre- 
fect's authorisation  to  speak  to  Lanoe.  The  latter 
remembered  that  Lefebre  had  left  the  horse  with  him 
at  the  end  of  July,  on  returning  from  Tournebut,  but 
he  denied  all  knowledge  of  Mme.  Acquet's  retreat. 
If  he  was  to  be  believed,  she  was  "  a  prisoner  of  her 


THE  YELLOW  HORSE  175 

family,"  and  would  never  be  found,  as  the  whole 
country  round  Falaise  was  "sold"  to  the  mayor,  M. 
de  Saint-Leonard,  who  had  declared  himself  his 
cousin's  protector. 

Lanoe's  wife  was  sent  back  to  Glatigny,  but  the 
horse  was  kept  at  Rouen — apparently  in  the  hope  that 
this  dumb  witness  would  bring  some  revelation. 
Licquet  even  cut  off  some  of  its  hairs  and  sent  them, 
carefully  wrapped  up,  to  Mme.  de  Combray,  implying 
that  they  came  from  the  faithful  Delaitre,  to  whom 
the  Marquise  had  confided  the  task  of  disposing  of 
the  compromising  animal.  The  same  evening  the 
Marquise,  completely  reassured,  wrote  the  following 
note  to  the  lawyer  : 

'^  You  see  that  my  commissioner  was  speedy.  I 
have  had  certain  proof.  He  went  to  Lanoe's  wife, 
found  the  horse,  got  on  it,  went  five  or  six  leagues, 
killed  it,  and  brought  away  the  skin.  He  brought  me 
some  of  its  coat,  and  I  send  you  half,  so  that  you  may 
see  the  truth  for  yourself,  and  so  have  no  fear.  I  am 
going  to  write  to  Soyer  to  say  that  he  sold  the  horse 
at  Guibray  for  350  livres." 

In  her  joy  at  being  delivered  from  her  nightmare, 
she  wrote  the  same  day  to  Colas,  her  groom,  who  was 
also  in  the  Conciergerie  :  "  Do  not  worry  :  do  you 
need  money  ?  I  will  send  you  twelve  francs.  The 
cursed  horse  !  They  have  sent  me  some  of  its  skin, 
which  I  send  for  recognition.  Burn  this."  And  to 
her  chambermaid,  Catherine  Querey  :  "  The  horse  is 
killed.  My  agent  skinned  and  burnt  it.  If  you  are 
asked   about   the   missing  horse,  say  that  it  was  sold. 


176    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

My  miserable  daughter  gives  me  a  great  deal  of 
pain." 

Thus  ends  the  story  of  the  yellow  horse.  It 
finished  its  mysterious  odyssey  in  the  stables  of 
Savoye-Rollin,  where  Licquet  often  visited  it,  as  if 
he  could  thus  learn  its  secret.  For  a  doubt  remained, 
and  Real's  suggestion  haunted  him :  "  If  the  horse 
had  only  served  for  Mme.  Acquet's  flight,  they  would 
not  advise  the  strange  precaution  of  taking  it  twelve 
leagues  away,  killing,  and  skinning  it  on  the  spot." 
Even  now  a  great  deal  of  mystery  hangs  about  it. 
The  horse  had  not  been  used  by  Mme.  Acquet,  be- 
cause we  know  that  since  the  robbery  of  June  7th, 
she  had  not  left  the  neighbourhood  of  Falaise. 
Lefebre  had  ridden  it  from  Tournebut ;  but  was  that 
a  fact  to  be  so  carefully  concealed?  Why  did  the 
Marquise  in  her  confidential  letters  insist  on  this 
point  ?  "  Say  that  the  lawyer  returned  to  his  house 
on  foot,"  is  a  sentence  that  we  find  in  each  of  her 
letters.  Since  no  mystery  was  made  of  the  journey, 
why  was  its  means  of  accomplishment  important  ? 

There  was  something  unexplained,  and  Licquet 
was  not  satisfied.  His  tricks  had  brought  no  result. 
D'Ache  was  not  found;  Mme.  Acquet  had  disap- 
peared ;  her  description  had  in  vain  been  sent  to  all 
the  brigades.  Manginot,  in  despair  of  finding  her, 
had  renounced  the  search,  and  Savoye-Rollin  himself 
was  "  determined  to  suspend  all  action."  Such  was 
the  situation  during  the  last  days  of  September.  It 
seemed  most  probable  that  the  affair  of  Quesnay  and 
the  great  plot  of  which  it  was  an  ofF-shoot,  were  go- 


THE  YELLOW  HORSE  177 

ing  to  join  many  others  of  the  same  kind,  whose 
originators  Fouche's  police  had  despaired  of  finding, 
when  an  unexpected  event  reawakened  Licquet*s 
fervour  and  suggested  to  him  a  new  machination. 


CHAPTER  VII 

MADAME    ACQUET 

Seclusion,  isolation  and  trouble  had  in  no  way 
softened  the  Marquise  de  Combray's  harsh  nature. 
From  the  very  first  day,  this  woman,  accustomed  to 
living  in  a  chateau,  had  accommodated  herself  to  the 
life  of  a  prisoner  without  abating  anything  of  her 
haughty  and  despotic  character.  Her  very  illusions 
remained  intact.  She  imagined  that  from  her  cell  she 
still  directed  her  confederates  and  agents,  whom  she 
considered  one  and  all  as  servants,  never  suspecting 
that  the  permission  to  write  letters,  of  which  she 
made  such  bad  use,  was  only  a  trap  set  for  her  in- 
genuous vanity.  In  less  than  a  month  she  had  writ- 
ten more  than  a  hundred  letters  to  her  fellow-prison- 
ers, which  all  passed  through  Licquet's  hands.  To 
one  she  dictated  the  answers  he  was  to  give,  to  an- 
other she  counselled  silence, — setting  herself  up  to  be 
an  absolute  judge  of  what  they  ought  to  say  or  to 
hold  back,  being  quite  unable  to  imagine  that  any  of 
these  unhappy  people  might  prefer  life  to  the  pleasure 
of  obeying  her.  She  would  have  treated  as  a  liar 
any  one,  be  he  who  he  might,  who  affirmed  that  all 
her  accomplices  had  deserted  her,  that  Soyer  had 
hastened  to  disclose  the  secret  hiding-places  at 
Tournebut,  that  Mile.  Querey  had  told  all  about  what 

178 


MADAME  ACQUET  179 

she  had  seen,  that  Lanoe  pestered  Caffarelli  with  his 
incessant  revelations,  and  that  Lefebre,  whom  noth- 
ing but  prudence  kept  silent,  was  very  near  telling  all 
he  knew  to  save  his  own  head. 

The  Marquise  was  ignorant  of  all  these  defections. 
Licquet  had  created  such  an  artificial  atmosphere 
around  her  that  she  lived  under  the  delusion  that  she 
was  as  important  as  before.  Convinced  that  nobody 
was  her  equal  in  finesse  and  authority,  she  considered 
the  detective  sufficiently  clever  to  deal  with  a  person 
of  humble  position,  but  believed  that  as  soon  as  she 
cared  to  trouble  herself  to  bring  it  about,  he  would  be- 
come entirely  devoted  to  her.  And  Licquet,  with  his 
almost  genial  skilfulness,  so  easily  fathomed  the  Mar- 
quise's proud  soul — was  such  a  perfect  actor  in  the 
way  he  stood  before  her,  spoke  to  her,  and  looked  at 
her  with  an  air  of  submissive  admiration, — that  it  was 
no  wonder  she  thought  he  was  ready  to  serve  her ; 
and  as  she  was  not  the  sort  of  woman  to  use  any  dis- 
cretion with  a  man  of  his  class,  she  immediately 
despatched  the  turnkey  to  offer  him  the  sum  of  12,000 
francs,  half  down,  if  he  would  consent  to  promote 
her  interests.  Licquet  appeared  very  grateful,  very 
much  honoured,  accepted  the  money,  which  he  put  in 
the  coffers  of  the  prefecture,  and  the  very  same  day 
read  a  letter  in  which  Mme.  de  Combray  informed 
her  accomplices  of  the  great  news  :  "  We  have  the 
little  secretary  under  our  thumb." 

Ah  !  what  great  talks  Licquet  and  the  prisoner  had, 
now  they  had  become  friends.  From  the  very  first 
conversation    he    satisfied   himself  that   she   did   not 


i8o     THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

know  Mme.  Acquet's  hiding-place ;  but  the  lawyer 
Lefebre,  who  had  at  last  ceased  to  be  dumb,  had  not 
concealed  the  fact  that  it  might  be  learned  through  a 
laundress  at  Falaise  named  Mme.  Chauvel,  and  Lic- 
quet  immediately  informed  Mme.  de  Combray  of  this 
fact  and  represented  to  her,  in  a  friendly  manner,  the 
danger  in  which  her  daughter's  arrest  would  involve 
her,  and  insinuated  that  the  only  hope  of  security  lay 
in  the  escape  to  England  of  Mme.  Acquet,  "on 
whose  head  the  government  had  set  a  price." 

The  idea  pleased  the  Marquise;  but  who  would 
undertake  to  discover  the  fugitive  and  arrange  for  her 
embarcation  ?  Whom  dared  she  trust,  in  her  desper- 
ate situation  ?  Licquet  seemed  the  very  one  j  he, 
however,  excused  himself,  saying  that  a  faithful  man, 
carrying  a  letter  from  Mme.  de  Combray,  would  do 
as  well,  and  the  Marquise  never  doubted  that  her 
daughter  would  blindly  follow  her  advice — supported 
by  a  sufficient  sum  of  money  to  live  abroad  while 
awaiting  better  days.  It  remained  to  find  the  faithful 
man.  The  Marquise  only  knew  of  one,  who,  quite 
recently,  at  her  request,  had  consented  to  go  and  look 
for  the  yellow  horse,  which  he  had  killed  and  skinned, 
and  who,  she  said,  had  acquitted  himself  so  cleverly 
of  his  mission.  She  was  never  tired  of  praising  this 
worthy  fellow,  who  only  existed,  as  every  one  knew, 
in  her  own  imagination ;  she  admitted  that  she  did 
not  know  him  personally,  but  had  corresponded  with 
him  through  the  medium  of  the  woman  Delaitre,  who 
had  been  placed  near  her ;  but  she  knew  that  he  was 
the   woman's    husband,  captain   of  a  boat  at  Saint- 


MADAME  ACQUET  i8i 

Valcry-en-Caux,  and,  in  addition,  a  relation  of  poor 
Raoul  Gaillard,  whom  the  Marquise  remembered  even 
in  her  own  troubles. 

Licquet  listened  quite  seriously  while  his  victim 
detailed  the  history  of  this  fictitious  person  whom  he 
himself  had  invented  ;  he  assured  her  that  the  choice 
was  a  wise  one,  for  he  had  known  Delaitre  for  a  long 
time  as  a  man  whose  loyalty  was  beyond  all  doubt. 
As  there  could  be  no  question  of  introducing  him 
into  the  prison,  Licquet  kindly  undertook  to  acquaint 
him  with  the  service  expected  of  him,  and  to  give 
him  the  three  letters  which  Mme.  de  Combray  was  to 
write  immediately.  The  first,  which  was  very  con- 
fidential, was  addressed  to  the  good  Delaitre  himself; 
the  second  was  to  be  handed,  at  the  moment  of  going 
on  board,  to  Mauge,  a  lawyer  at  Valery,  who  was  to 
provide  the  necessary  money  for  the  fugitive's  exist- 
ence in  England;  the  third  accredited  Delaitre  to 
Mme.  Acquet.  The  Marquise  ordered  her  daughter 
to  follow  the  honest  Captain,  whom  she  represented 
as  a  tried  friend ;  she  begged  her,  in  her  own  interest 
and  that  of  all  their  friends,  to  leave  the  country 
without  losing  a  day  ;  and  she  concluded  by  saying 
that  in  the  event  of  her  obeying  immediately,  she 
would  provide  generously  for  all  her  wants ;  then  she 
signed  and  handed  the  three  letters  to  Licquet,  over- 
whelming him  with  protestations  of  gratitude. 

All  the  detective  had  to  do  was  to  procure  a  false 
Delaitre,  since  the  real  did  not  exist.  They  selected 
an  intelligent  man,  of  suitable  bearing,  and  making 
out   a  detailed   passport,  despatched   him  to  Falaise, 


i82    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

armed  with  the  Marquise's  letters,  to  have  an  inter- 
view with  the  laundress.  Five  days  later  he  returned 
to  Rouen.  The  Chauvels,  on  seeing  Mme.  de  Com- 
bray's  letters,  quite  unsuspectingly  gave  the  messenger 
a  warm  welcome.  The  gendarme,  however,  did  not 
approve  of  the  idea  of  crossing  to  England.  Mme. 
Acquet,  he  said,  was  very  well  hidden  in  Caen,  and 
nobody  suspected  where  she  was.  What  was  the  use 
of  exposing  her  to  the  risk  of  embarking  at  a  well 
watched  port.  But  as  Delaitre  insisted,  saying  that 
he  had  a  commission  from  Mme.  de  Combray  which 
he  must  carry  out,  Chauvel,  whose  duty  kept  him 
at  Falaise,  arranged  to  meet  the  Captain  at  Caen  on 
the  2d  of  October.  He  wished  to  present  him  him- 
self to  Mme.  Acquet,  and  to  help  his  mistress  in  this 
matter  on  which  her  future  depended.  Thus  it  was 
that  on  the  ist  of  October,  Licquet,  now  sure  of 
success,  put  the  false  Captain  Delaitre  in  the  coach 
leaving  for  Caen,  having  given  him  as  assistants,  a 
nephew  of  the  same  name  and  a  servant,  both  care- 
fully chosen  from  amongst  the  wiliest  of  his  assist- 
ants. The  next  day  the  three  spies  got  out  at  the 
Hotel  du  Pare  in  the  Faubourg  de  Vaucelles  at  Caen, 
which  Chauvel  had  fixed  as  the  meeting-place,  and 
whither  he  had  promised  to  bring  Mme.  Acquet. 

Six  weeks  previously,  when  quitting  Falaise  on  the 
23d  August,  after  the  examination  to  which  Caffa- 
relli  had  subjected  her,  Mme.  Acquet,  still  ignorant 
of  her  mother's  arrest,  had  proposed  going  to  Tourne- 
but,  in  order  to  hide  there  for  some  time  before  start- 
ing for  Paris,  where  she  hoped  to  find  Le  Chevalier. 


MADAME  ACQUET  183 

She  had  with  her  her  third  daughter,  Celine,  a  child 
of  six  years,  whom  she  counted  on  getting  rid  of  by 
placing  her  at  the  school  kept  at  Rouen  by  the  ladies 
Dusaussay,  where  the  two  elder  girls  already  were. 
They  were  accompanied  by  Chauvel's  sister,  a  woman 
named  Normand. 

She  went  first  to  Caen  where  she  was  to  take  the 
diligence,  and  lodged  with  Bessin  at  the  Coupe  d'Or 
in  the  Rue  Saint- Pierre.  Chauvel  came  there  the 
following  day  to  say  good-bye  to  his  friend  and  they 
dined  together.  While  they  were  at  table,  a  man, 
whom  the  gendarme  did  not  know,  entered  the  room 
and  said  a  few  words  to  Mme.  Acquet,  who  went 
into  the  adjoining  room  with  him.  It  was  Lemarch- 
and,  the  innkeeper  at  Louvigny,  Allain's  host  and 
friend.  Chauvel  grew  anxious  at  this  private  con- 
versation, and  seeing  the  time  of  the  diligence  was 
approaching,  opened  the  door  and  warned  Mme. 
Acquet  that  she  must  get  ready  to  start.  To  his 
great  surprise,  she  replied  that  she  was  no  longer  go- 
ing, as  important  interests  detained  her  in  Caen.  She 
begged  him  to  escort  the  woman  Normand  and  the 
little  girl  to  the  coach,  and  gave  him  the  address  of  a 
lawyer  in  Rouen  with  whom  the  child  could  be  left. 
The  gendarme  obeyed,  and  when  he  went  back  to 
the  Coupe  d'Or  an  hour  later,  his  mistress  had  left. 
He  returned  sadly  to  Falaise. 

Lemarchand,  who  had  been  informed  of  Mme. 
Acquet's  journey,  came  to  tell  her,  from  Allain,  that 
"  a  lodging  had  been  found  for  her  where  she  would 
be  secure,  and  that,  if  she  did  not  wish  to  go,  she  had 


i84    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

only  to  come  to  the  Promenade  Saint-Julien  at  night- 
fall, and  some  one  would  meet  her  and  escort  her  to 
her  new  hiding-place."  It  may  well  be  that  a  threat 
of  denouncing  her,  if  she  left  the  country,  was  added 
to  this  obliging  offer.  At  any  rate  she  was  made  to 
defer  her  journey.  Towards  ten  o'clock  at  night, 
according  to  Lemarchand's  advice,  she  reached  the 
Promenade  Saint-Julien  alone,  walked  up  and  down 
under  the  trees  for  some  time,  and  seeing  two  men 
seated  on  a  bench,  she  went  and  sat  down  beside  them. 
At  first  they  eyed  each  other  without  saying  a  word; 
at  last,  one  of  the  strangers  asked  her  if  she  were  not 
waiting  for  some  one.  Upon  her  answering  in  the 
affirmative  they  conferred  for  a  moment,  and  then 
gave  their  names.  They  were  the  lawyer  Vannier 
and  Bureau  de  Placene,  two  intimate  friends  of  Le 
Chevalier's.  Mme.  Acquet,  in  her  turn,  mentioned 
her  name,  and  Vannier  offering  her  his  arm,  escorted 
her  to  his  house  in  the  Rue  Saint-Martin. 

They  held  a  council  next  day  at  breakfast.  Le- 
marchand,  Vannier,  and  Bureau  de  Placene  appeared 
very  anxious  to  keep  Mme.  Acquet.  She  was,  they 
said,  sure  of  not  being  punished  as  long  as  she  did  not 
quit  the  department  of  Calvados.  Neither  the  pre- 
fect nor  the  magistrates  would  trouble  to  enquire  into 
the  affair,  and  all  the  gentry  of  Lower  Normandy 
had  declared  for  the  family  of  Combray,  which  was, 
moreover,  connected  with  all  the  nobility  in  the  dis- 
trict. Such  were  the  ostensible  reasons  which  the 
three  confederates  put  forth,  their  real  reason  was 
only    a    question    of    money.     They    imagined    that 


MADAME  ACQUET  185 

Mme.  Acquet  had  the  free  disposal  of  the  treasure 
buried  at  the  Buquets,  which  amounted  to  more  than 
40,000  francs.  Finding  her  ready  to  rejoin  Le 
Chevalier,  and  persuaded  that  she  would  carry  the 
remainder  of  this  stolen  money  to  her  lover,  they 
thought  it  well  to  stop  her  and  the  money,  to  which 
they  believed  they  had  a  right — Lemarchand  as 
Allain*s  friend  and  creditor,  Placene  in  his  capacity 
of  cashier  to  the  Chouans.  The  lawyer  Vannier,  as 
liquidator  of  Le  Chevalier's  debts,  had  offered  to  keep 
Mme.  Acquet  prisoner  until  they  had  succeeded  in 
extorting  the  whole  sum  from  her. 

The  life  led  by  the  unhappy  woman  at  Vannier's, 
where  she  was  a  prey  to  this  trio  of  scoundrels,  was  a 
purgatory  of  humiliations  and  misery.  When  the 
lawyer  understood  that  not  only  did  his  prisoner  not 
possess  a  single  sou,  but  that  she  could  not  dispose  of 
the  Buquets*  treasure,  he  flew  into  a  violent  passion 
and  plainly  threatened  to  give  her  up  to  the  police ; 
he  even  reproached  her  "  for  what  she  eat,"  swearing 
that  somehow  or  other  "  he  would  make  her  pay 
board,  for  he  certainly  was  not  going  to  feed  her  free 
of  cost."  The  unhappy  woman,  who  had  spent  her 
last  louis  in  paying  for  the  seat  in  the  Rouen  diligence, 
which  she  had  not  occupied,  wrote  to  Lefebre  early 
m  September,  begging  him  to  send  her  a  little  money. 
He  had  received  a  large  share  of  the  plunder  and 
might  at  least  have  shown  himself  generous ;  but  he 
replied  coolly  that  he  could  do  nothing  for  her ;  and 
that  she  had  better  apply  to  Joseph  Buquet. 

This   was   exactly   what    they   wished    her  to   do. 


i86     THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

Vannier  himself  brutally  advised  her  to  try  going  to 
Donnay,  even  at  the  risk  of  being  arrested,  in  order 
to  bring  back  some  money  from  there  ;  and  Lemarch- 
and,  rather  than  lose  sight  of  her,  resolved  to  accom- 
pany her. 

Mme.  Acquet,  worn  out  and  reduced  to  a  state  of 
subjection,  consented  to  everything  that  was  demanded 
of  her.  Dressed  as  a  beggar,  she  took  the  road  to 
Donnay  where  formerly  she  had  ruled  as  sovereign 
mistress ;  she  saw  again  the  long  avenues  at  the  end 
of  which  the  facade  of  the  chateau,  imposing  still 
despite  its  decay,  commanded  a  view  of  the  three  ter- 
races of  the  park ;  she  walked  along  by  the  walls  to 
reach  the  Buquets'  cottage  where  Joseph,  who  was 
hiding  in  the  neighbouring  woods,  occasionally  re- 
turned to  watch  over  his  treasure.  She  surprised  him 
there  on  this  particular  day,  and  implored  him  to  come 
to  her  assistance  but  the  peasant  was  inflexible ;  she 
obtained,  however,  the  sum  of  one  hundred  and  fifty 
francs,  which  he  counted  out  to  her  in  twelve-sou 
pieces  and  copper  money.  On  the  evening  of  her 
return  to  Caen  Mme.  Acquet  faithfully  made  over 
the  money  to  Vannier,  reserving  only  fifteen  francs 
for  her  trouble ;  moreover,  she  was  obliged  to  submit 
to  her  host's  obscene  allusions  as  to  the  means  she 
had  employed  to  extort  this  ridiculous  sum  from 
Buquet.  She  bore  everything  unmoved  ;  her  indiffer- 
ence resembled  stupefaction  ;  she  no  longer  appeared 
conscious  of  the  horrors  of  her  situation  or  the  dan- 
gers to  which  she  was  exposed.  Her  happiest  days 
were  spent  in  walks  round  the  town  with  Chauvel 


MADAME  ACQUET  187 

with  whom  she  arranged  meetings  and  who  used  to 
come  from  Falaise  to  pass  a  few  hours  with  her ;  they 
went  to  a  neighbouring  village,  dined  there,  and  re- 
turned to  the  town  at  dusk. 

Ailain,  too,  showed  some  interest  in  her.  He  was 
hiding  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Caen,  and  sometimes 
came  in  the  evening  to  confer  with  Vannier  in  com- 
pany with  Bureau  de  Placene  and  a  lawyer  named 
Robert  Langelley  with  whom  her  host  had  business 
dealings.  They  were  all  equally  needed,  and  spent 
their  time  in  planning  means  to  make  Joseph  Buquet 
disgorge.  Ailain  proposed  only  one  plan,  and  it  was 
adopted.  Mme.  Acquet  was  to  go  to  Donnay  again 
and  try  to  soften  the  peasant ;  if  he  refused  to  show 
where  the  money  was  hidden,  Ailain  was  to  spring  on 
him  and  strangle  him. 

They  set  out  from  Caen  one  morning,  about  the 
25th  of  September.  Mme.  Acquet  had  arranged  to 
meet  Joseph  at  the  house  of  a  farmer  named  Halbout, 
which  was  situated  at  some  distance  from  the  village 
of  Donnay.  He  came  at  the  appointed  hour ;  but  as 
he  was  approaching  carefully,  fearing  an  ambuscade, 
he  caught  sight  of  Ailain  hiding  behind  a  hedge,  and 
taking  fright  made  off  as  fast  as  his  legs  could  carry 
him. 

They  had  to  go  back  to  Caen  empty-handed  and 
face  the  anger  of  Vannier,  who  accused  his  lodger  of 
complicity  with  the  Buquets  to  make  their  attempts 
miscarry.  A  fresh  council  was  held,  and  this  time 
Chauvel  was  admitted ;  he  too,  had  a  plan.  This 
was  that  he  and  Mallet,  one  of  his  comrades,  should 


i88     THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

go  to  Donnay  in  uniform ;  Langelley  was  to  play  the 
part  of  commissary  of  police.  "  They  were  to  arrest 
Buquet  on  the  part  of  the  government ;  if  he  con- 
sented to  say  where  the  money  was,  he  was  to  be 
given  his  liberty,  and  the  address  of  a  safe  hiding- 
place  ;  in  case  of  his  refusing,  the  police  were  to  kill 
him,  and  they  would  then  be  free  to  draw  up  a  report 
of  contumacy." 

The  Marquise  de  Combray's  daughter  was  present 
at  these  conferences,  meek  and  resigned,  her  heart 
heavy  at  the  thought  that  this  wretched  money  would 
become  the  prey  of  these  men  who  had  had  none  of 
the  trouble  and  who  would  have  all  the  profit.  Every 
day  she  sank  deeper  and  deeper  into  this  quagmire ; 
the  plots  that  were  hatched  there,  the  things  she 
heard — for  they  showed  no  reserve  before  her — were 
horrible.  As  she  represented  40,000  francs  to  these 
ruffians,  she  had  to  endure  not  only  their  brutal  gal- 
lantries, but  also  their  confidences.  "  Mme.  Placene 
one  day  suggested  the  enforced  disappearance  of  the 
baker  Lerouge,"  says  Bornet,  as  he  was  "very  re- 
ligious and  a  very  good  man,"  she  was  afraid  that  if 
he  were  arrested,  "he  would  not  consent  to  lie,  and 
would  ruin  them  all."  Langelley  specially  feared  the 
garrulity  of  Flierle  and  Lanoe,  in  prison  at  Caen,  and 
he  was  trying  to  get  them  poisoned.  He  had  already 
made  an  arrangement  "with  the  chemist  and  the 
prison  doctor,  whom  he  had  under  his  thumb,"  and 
he  also  knew  a  man  who  "  for  a  small  sum,  would 
create  a  disturbance  in  the  town,  allow  himself  to  be 
arrested  and  condemned  to  a  few  months'  imprison- 


MADAME  ACQUET  189 

mcnt,  and  would  thus  find  a  way  of  getting  rid  of 
these  individuals.'*  They  also  spoke  of  Acquet,  who 
was  still  in  jail  at  Caen.  In  everybody's  opinion 
Mme.  Vannier  was  his  mistress,  and  went  to  see  him 
every  day  in  his  cell.  He  was  supposed  to  be  a  gov- 
ernment spy,  and  Placene  pretended  that  Vannier  re- 
ceived money  from  him  to  keep  him  informed  of 
Mme.  Acquet's  doings.  Langelley,  for  his  part,  said 
that  Placene  was  a  rogue  and  that  if  "  he  had  already 
got  his  share  of  the  plunder,  he  received  at  least  as 
much  again  from  the  police." 

The  poor  woman  who  formed  the  pivot  of  these 
intrigues  was  not  spared  by  her  unworthy  accomplices. 
Having  in  mind  Joseph  Buquet  and  Chauvel,  they  all 
suspected  one  another  of  having  been  her  lovers. 
Vannier  had  thus  made  her  pay  for  her  hospitality ; 
Langelley  and  the  gendarme  Mallet  himself,  had  ex- 
acted the  same  price — accusations  it  was  as  impossi- 
ble as  it  was  useless  to  refute.  She  herself  well  knew 
her  own  abasement,  and  at  times  disgust  seized  her. 
On  the  evening  of  September  27th,  she  did  not  re- 
turn to  Vannier's  ;  escaping  from  this  hell,  she  craved 
shelter  from  a  lacemaker  named  Adelaide  Monderard, 
who  lodged  in  the  Rue  du  Han,  and  who  was  Lan- 
gelley's  mistress.  The  girl  consented  to  take  her  in 
and  gave  her  up  one  of  the  two  rooms  which  formed 
her  lodgings,  and  which  were  reached  by  a  very  dark 
staircase.  It  was  a  poor  room  under  the  roof,  lighted 
by  two  small  casements,  the  furniture  being  of  the 
shabbiest.  Chauvel  came  to  see  her  there  the  follow- 
ing day,  and  there  it  was  that  she  learnt  of  the  ex- 


190     THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

pected  arrival  of  Captain  Delaitre,  sent  by  Mme.  de 
Combray  to  save  her,  and  secure  her  the  means  of 
going  to  England.  Mme.  Acquet  manifested  neither 
regret  nor  joy.  She  was  astonished  that  her  mother 
should  think  of  her;  but  it  seems  that  she  did  not 
attach  great  importance  to  this  incident,  which  was  to 
decide  her  fate.  A  single  idea  possessed  her :  how 
to  find  a  retreat  which  would  allow  of  her  escaping 
from  Vannier's  hateful  guardianship ;  and  Langelley, 
who  was  very  surprised  at  finding  her  at  the  lace- 
maker's,  seeing  her  perplexity  offered  to  escort  her  to 
a  country  house,  about  a  league  from  the  town,  where 
his  father  lived.  She  set  out  with  him  that  very  even- 
ing ;  at  the  same  hour  the  false  Captain  Delaitre  left 
Rouen,  and  the  ruse  so  cleverly  planned  by  Licquet, 
put  an  end  to  Mme.  Acquet's  lamentable  adven- 
tures. 

Arriving  at  the  Hotel  du  Pare  on  October  2d, 
"  Captain  "  Delaitre  went  to  the  window  of  his  room 
and  saw  a  man  hurrying  down  the  street  with  a  very 
small  woman  on  his  arm,  very  poorly  dressed.  From 
his  walk  he  recognised  Chauvel  dressed  as  a  bour- 
geois; the  woman  was  Mme.  Acquet.  The  two 
men  bowed,  and  Chauvel  leaving  his  companion, 
went  up  to  the  Captain's  room.  "  There  were  com- 
pliments, handshakes,  the  utmost  confidence,  as  is 
usual  between  a  soldier  and  a  sailor."  Chauvel  ex- 
plained that  he  had  walked  from  Falaise  that  after- 
noon, and  that  in  order  to  get  ofF,  he  had  pretended 
to  his  chiefs  that  private  business  took  him  to  Ba- 
yonne.     The  false  Delaitre  immediately  handed  him 


MADAME  ACQUET  191 

Mmc.  de  Combray*s  two  letters  which  Chauvel  read 
absently. 

"  Let  us  go  down,"  he  said ;  "  the  lady  is  near  and 
awaits  us." 

They  met  her  a  few  steps  farther  down  the  road  in 
company  with  Langelley,  whom  Chauvel  introduced  to 
Delaitre.  The  latter  immediately  offered  his  arm  to 
Mme.  Acquet :  Chauvel,  Langelley  and  the  "  nephew 
Delaitre  "  followed  at  some  distance.  They  passed 
the  bridge  and  walked  along  by  the  river  under  the 
trees  of  the  great  promenade,  talking  all  the  time.  It 
was  now  quite  dark. 

Captain  Delaitre  "  after  having  given  Mme.  Acquet 
her  mother's  compliments,  informed  her  of  the  latter's 
intentions  concerning  her  going  to  England  or  the 
isles."  But  the  young  woman  flatly  rejected  the 
proposal;  she  was,  she  said,  "quite  safe  with  her 
friend's  father,  within  reach  of  all  her  relations,  and 
she  would  never  consent  to  leave  Caen,  where  she 
had  numerous  and  devoted  protectors."  The  Cap- 
tain objected  that  this  determination  was  all  the  more 
to  be  regretted  since  "  the  powerful  personage  who 
was  interesting  himself  in  the  fate  of  his  own  people, 
demanded  that  she  should  have  quitted  France,  before 
he  began  to  seek  Mme.  de  Combray's  release."  To 
which  Mme.  Acquet  replied  that  she  should  never 
alter  her  decision. 

The  discussion  lasted  about  half  an  hour.  The 
Captain  having  mentioned  a  letter  of  Mme.  de  Com- 
bray's  of  which  he  was  the  bearer,  Mme.  Acquet 
turned   to  Langelley  and   asked  him  to  escort  her  to 


192     THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

au  inn,  where  she  might  read  it.  They  crossed  the 
bridge  following  Langelley  up  the  Rue  de  Vaucelles, 
and  stopped  at  an  inn  situated  about  a  hundred  yards 
above  the  Hotel  du  Pare.  Mme.  Acquet  and  her 
companions  entered  the  narrow  passage  and  went  up- 
stairs to  a  room  on  the  first  floor,  where  they  seated 
themselves  at  a  table,  and  Langelley  ordered  wine 
and  biscuits.  The  young  woman  took  the  Marquise's 
letter  from  the  Captain's  hands ;  all  those  around  her 
were  silent  and  watched  attentively.  They  noticed 
that  "  she  changed  colour  at  every  line  and  sighed." 

"  When  do  you  start  ?  "  she  asked  Delaitre,  wiping 
her  eyes. 

"Very  early  to-morrow,"  fie  replied. 

She  heaved  another  great  sigh  and  began  to  read 
again.  She  became  very  nervous,  and  seemed  about 
to  faint.  When  she  had  finished  the  letter,  she  ques- 
tioned Delaitre  anew. 

"You  know  for  certain,  sir,  what  this  letter  con- 
tains ? " 

"  Yes,  Madame ;  your  mother  read  it  to  me." 

She  was  silent  for  "  more  than  two  minutes " ; 
then  she  said  as  if  she  were  making  a  great  effort : 

"  One  must  obey  one's  mother's  orders.  Well, 
Monsieur,  I  will  go  with  you.  Will  you  not  wait 
till  to-morrow  evening  ?  " 

Captain  Delaitre  at  first  demurred  at  the  idea  of 
deferring  his  journey  ;  but  at  last  their  departure  was 
fixed  for  the  following  day,  October  3d,  at  nightfall. 
A  heated  discussion  ensued.  Langelley  noticed  that 
Vannier,  Allain,  Placene  and  the  others  did  not  ap- 


MADAME  ACQUET  193 

prove  of  Mme.  Acquet's  decision.  They  were  all 
certain  that  she  ran  not  the  slightest  risk  by  remain- 
ing in  Caen,  inasmuch  as  there  would  never  be  a 
judge  to  prosecute  nor  a  tribunal  to  condemn  her. 
Delaitre  replied  that  it  was  precisely  to  guard  against 
the  indulgence  of  the  Calvados  authorities,  that  an 
imperial  decree  had  laid  the  affair  before  the  special 
court  at  Rouen ;  but  the  lawyer  who  could  not  see 
his  last  chance  of  laying  hands  on  the  Buquets* 
treasure  disappear  without  feeling  some  annoyance, 
replied  that  nothing  must  be  decided  without  the  ad- 
vice of  their  friends.  The  young  woman  ended  the 
discussion  by  declaring  that  she  was  going  "  because 
it  was  her  mother's  wish." 

**  Are  you  sure,"  asked  Chauvel,  '^  that  that  really 
is  your  mother's  writing  ?  " 

She  answered  yes,  and  the  gendarme  said  that  in 
his  opinion  she  was  right  to  obey. 

They  then  settled  the  details  of  the  departure. 
Langelley  offered  to  conduct  the  travellers  to  the 
borders  of  the  department  of  Calvados,  which  De- 
laitre knew  very  slightly.  Mme.  Acquet  was  to  take 
no  luggage.  Her  clothes  were  to  be  forwarded  to 
her,  care  of  the  Captain,  at  the  Rouen  office.  The 
conversation  took  a  "  tone  of  the  sincerest  friendship 
and  the  greatest  confidence."  When  the  hour  for 
separating  came,  Mme.  Acquet  pressed  the  Captain's 
hand  several  times,  saying,  "  Till  to-morrow,  then. 
Monsieur."  And  as  she  went  down  the  stairs 
Chauvel  remained  behind  with  Delaitre,  to  make  sure 
that  the  latter  had  brought  money  to  pay  the  small 


194    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

debts  which  the  fugitive  had  incurred  with  the  trades- 
men. 

Towards  eleven  on  the  following  morning  Chauvel 
presented  himself  at  the  inn  alone.  He  went  up  at 
once  to  Delaitre's  room  who  asked  him  to  lunch  and 
sent  his  nephew  out  to  get  oysters.  Chauvel  had 
come  to  beg  Delaitre  to  put  ofF  his  journey  another 
day,  as  Mme.  Acquet  could  not  start  before  Sunday, 
the  4th.  While  they  were  at  lunch  Chauvel  became 
quite  confidential.  He  could  not  see  his  friend  go 
away  without  regret ;  he  alone,  he  said,  had  served 
her  from  pure  devotion.  He  told  how,  in  order  to 
put  ofF  his  comrades,  who  had  been  charged  by  Man- 
ginot  to  draw  up  a  description  of  the  fugitive,  he  had 
intentionally  made  it  out  incorrectly,  describing  her 
"  as  being  very  stout  and  having  fair  hair."  He 
talked  of  d*Ache  whom  he  considered  a  brigand  and 
"  the  sole  cause  of  all  the  misfortunes  which  had 
happened  to  Mme.  de  Combray  and  her  family. 
Finally  he  inquired  if  the  Captain  would  consent  to 
take  Buquet  and  Allain  to  England  as  they  were  in 
fact  two  of  the  principal  actors  in  the  affair,  and  the 
Captain  consented  very  willingly.  It  was  agreed  that 
as  soon  as  he  had  landed  Mme.  Acquet  in  England, 
he  should  return  to  Saint- Valery  which  was  his  port. 
All  Allain  and  Buquet  had  to  do,  was  to  go  to  Privost, 
the  innkeeper,  opposite  the  post  at  Cany  on  Wednes- 
day, the  14th,  and  he  would  meet  them  and  take 
them  on  board. 

During  luncheon  Delaitre,  who  was  obviously  a 
messenger  of  Providence,  counted  out  400  francs  in 


MADAME  ACQUET  195 

gold  on  the  table,  and  gave  them  to  Chauvel  to  pay 
his  mistress's  debts. 

Vannier  had  claimed  six  louis  for  the  hospitality  he 
had  shown  her,  alleging  that  "  this  sort  of  lodger 
ought  to  pay  more  than  the  others  on  account  of  the 
risk ; "  he  further  demanded  that  the  cost  of  twenty 
masses,  which  Mme.  Acquet  had  had  said,  should  be 
refunded  to  him.  Chauvel  spent  part  of  the  Sunday 
with  Delaitre ;  the  meeting  was  fixed  for  seven  in  the 
evening.  The  Captain  was  to  wait  at  the  door  of  his 
inn  and  follow  Mme.  Acquet  when  he  saw  her  pass 
with  the  gendarme.  She  only  appeared  at  ten  at 
night,  and  they  walked  separately  as  far  as  Vaucelles. 
Langelley  kept  them  waiting,  but  he  arrived  at  last 
on  a  borrowed  horse ;  the  Captain  had  got  a  post- 
horse  ;  as  for  the  nephew,  Delaitre,  and  the  servant, 
they  had  gone  back  the  evening  before  to  Rouen. 

The  time  had  come  to  say  good-bye.  Mme. 
Acquet  embraced  Chauvel  who  parted  from  her  '*■  in 
the  tenderest  manner,  enjoining  Delaitre  to  take  the 
greatest  care  of  the  precious  object  confided  to  him." 
Langelley,  armed  with  a  club  for  a  riding  whip,  placed 
himself  at  the  head  of  the  cavalcade,  Delaitre  warmly 
wrapping  Mme.  Acquet  in  his  cloak,  took  her  up 
behind  him,  and  with  renewed  good  wishes,  warm 
handshakes,  and  sad  "  au  revoirs  "  the  horsemen  set 
ofF  at  a  trot  on  the  road  to  Dives.  Chauvel  saw 
them  disappear  in  the  mist,  but  he  waited  at  the  de- 
serted crossroads  as  long  as  he  could  hear  the  clatter 
of  their  horses*  hoofs  on  the  road. 

They  arrived  at  Dives  about  three  in  the  morning. 


196     THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

The  young  woman,  who  had  seemed  very  lively,  pro- 
tested that  she  was  not  tired,  and  refused  to  get  off. 
Therefore  Langelley  alone  entered  the  post-house, 
woke  up  the  guide  he  had  engaged  the  day  before; 
and  they  continued  their  journey.  The  day  was 
breaking  when  they  arrived  at  Annebault ;  the  three 
travelers  halted  at  an  inn  where  they  spent  the  whole 
day ;  the  lawyer  and  Mme.  Acquet  settled  their  little 
accounts.  They  slept  a  little,  they  talked  a  great 
deal,  and  spent  a  long  time  over  dinner.  At  six  in 
the  evening  they  mounted  their  horses  again  and  took 
the  road  to  Pont-1'Eveque.  Langelley  escorted  the 
fugitives  as  far  as  the  forest  of  Touques  :  before  leav- 
ing Mme.  Acquet,  he  asked  her  for  a  lock  of  her 
hair;  he  then  embraced  her  several  times. 

It  was  nearly  midnight  when  the  young  woman 
found  herself  alone  with  Delaitre.  The  horse  ad- 
vanced with  difficulty  along  the  forest  roads.  Cling- 
ing to  the  Captain  with  both  arms,  Mme.  Acquet  no 
longer  talked ;  her  excitement  of  yesterday  had  given 
place  to  a  kind  of  stupor,  so  that  Delaitre,  who  in  the 
darkness  could  not  see  that  her  great  dark  eyes  were 
open,  thought  that  she  had  fallen  asleep  on  his  shoul- 
der. At  three  in  the  morning  they  at  length  arrived 
at  the  suburbs  of  Pont-Audemer ;  the  Captain  stopped 
at  the  post-house  and  asked  for  a  room  ;  in  the  register 
which  was  presented  to  him  he  wrote :  "  Monsieur 
Delaitre  and  wife." 

They  were  breakfasting  towards  noon  when  a  non- 
commissioned marine  officer,  accompanied  by  an  es- 
cort of  two  men,  entered  the  room.     He  went  straight 


MADAME  ACQUET  197 

up  to  Delaitre,  asked  his  name,  and  observing  his 
agitation,  called  upon  him  to  show  his  papers.  These 
he  took  possession  of  after  a  brief  examination,  and 
then  ordered  the  soldiers  to  put  Delaitre  under  arrest. 
The  officer,  an  amiable  and  talkative  little  man, 
continually  excused  himself  to  Mme.  Acquet  for  the 
annoyance  he  was  causing  her.  Captain  Delaitre,  he 
said,  had  left  his  ship  without  any  authority,  and  it 
had  been  pointed  out,  moreover,  that  he  had  willingly 
engaged  in  smuggling  while  pretending  to  be  trading 
along  the  coast.  He  did  not  commit  the  indiscretion 
of  inquiring  the  lady's  name,  nor  what  reason  she  had 
for  scouring  the  country  in  company  of  a  ship's 
captain ;  but  he  carefully  gave  her  to  understand  that 
she  must  be  detained  until  they  got  to  Rouen,  whither 
Delaitre  would  be  escorted  to  receive  a  reprimand 
from  the  commandant  of  the  port.  Mme.  Acquet 
was  convinced  that  it  was  nothing  but  a  misunder- 
standing which  would  be  cleared  up  at  Rouen,  and 
troubled  very  little  about  the  incident ;  and  as  she  was 
worn  out  with  fatigue,  she  expressed  a  wish  to  spend 
that  night  and  the  following  day  at  Pont-Audemer. 
The  little  officer  consented  with  alacrity,  and  whilst 
appearing  only  to  keep  an  eye  on  Delaitre,  he  never 
for  an  instant  lost  sight  of  the  young  woman,  whose 
attitudes,  gestures  and  appearance  he  scrutinised  with 
malicious  eyes.  It  was  Licquet,  as  we  have  already 
guessed,  who  in  his  haste  to  know  the  result  of  the 
false  Delaitre's  adventures,  had  dressed  himself  up  in 
a  borrowed  uniform  and  come  to  receive  his  new 
victim.     He  was  full  of  forethought  for  her;  he  took 


198    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

her  in  a  carriage  from  Pont-Audemer  to  Bourg- 
Achard,  where  he  allowed  her  to  rest.  On  the 
morning  of  the  seventh  they  left  Bourg-Achard  and 
arrived  at  Rouen  before  midday.  The  kindly  officer 
was  so  persuasive  that  Mme.  Acquet  offered  no  re- 
sistance nor  recriminations  when  she  was  taken  to  the 
Conciergerie,  where  she  was  entered  under  the  name 
of  Rosalie  Bourdon,  doubtless  the  one  under  which 
she  had  travelled.  She  appeared  quite  indifferent  to 
all  that  went  on  around  her.  On  entering  this  prison, 
where  she  knew  her  mother  was,  she  showed  abso- 
lutely no  emotion.  She  remained  in  this  state  of 
resigned  lassitude  for  two  days.  Licquet,  who  came 
to  see  her  several  times,  endeavoured  to  keep  her 
under  the  impression  that  her  imprisonment  had  no 
other  cause  than  Delaitre's  infringement  of  the  mari- 
time regulations;  he  even  took  the  precaution  of 
pretending  not  to  know  her  name. 

Meanwhile,  he  laid  his  plans  for  attack.  At  first 
his  joy,  at  capturing  the  much  desired  prey  had  been 
so  keen  that  he  could  not  withstand  the  pleasure  of 
writing  the  news  straight  to  Real  whom  he  asked  to 
keep  it  secret  for  a  fortnight.  On  reflexion  he  real- 
ised how  difficult  it  would  be  to  obtain  confessions 
from  a  woman  who  had  been  so  hideously  deceived, 
and  he  felt  that  the  traps,  into  which  the  naive  Mme. 
de  Combray  had  fallen  would  be  of  no  avail  in  her 
daughter's  case.  He  had  better  ones  :  on  his  person 
he  carried  the  letter  which  Mme.  de  Combray  had 
written  to  her  dear  Delaitre,  which  he  had  taken  from 
the   Captain   in   Mme.  Acquet's   very  presence.     In 


MADAME  ACQUET  199 

this  letter,  the  Marquise  had  spoken  of  her  daughter 
as  "  the  vilest  of  creatures,  lamenting  that  for  her  own 
safety  she  was  obliged  to  come  to  the  assistance  of 
such  a  monster;  she  especially  complained  of  the 
amount  of  money  it  was  costing  her." 

On  the  9th  of  October,  Licquet  came  into  Mme. 
Acquet's  cell,  began  to  converse  familiarly  with  her, 
told  her  that  he  knew  her  name  and  showed  her  Mme. 
de  Combray's  letter.  On  reading  it  Mme.  Acquet 
flew  into  a  violent  passion.  Licquet  comforted  her, 
gave  her  to  understand  that  he  was  her  only  friend, 
that  her  mother  hated  her  and  had  only  helped  her  in 
the  hope  of  saving  her  own  life ;  that  the  lawyer  Le- 
febre  had  sold  himself  to  the  police  on  giving  the 
Chauvels'  address  at  Falaise,  in  proof  of  which  he 
showed  her  the  note  written  by  the  lawyer's  own 
hand.  He  even  went  so  far  as  to  allude  to  certain  in- 
fidelities on  the  part  of  Le  Chevalier,  and  to  the  mis- 
tresses he  must  have  had  in  Paris,  till  at  last  the 
unhappy  woman  burst  into  tears  of  indignation  and 
grief. 

"  Enough,"  she  said ;  "  it  is  my  turn  now ;  you 
must  receive  my  declaration  immediately,  and  take  it 
at  once  to  the  prefect.  I  will  confess  everything. 
My  life  is  a  burden  to  me." 

She  immediately  told  the  long  story  of  d' Ache's 
plans,  his  journeys  to  England,  the  organisation  of 
the  plot,  the  attempt  to  print  the  Prince's  manifesto, 
and  also  how  he  had  beguiled  Le  Chevalier  and  had 
succeeded  in  drawing  him  into  it,  by  promises  of  high 
rank  and  great  honours.     She  said,  too,  that  d'Ache 


k 


200    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

whom  she  accused  of  having  caused  all  the  unhappi- 
ness  of  her  life,  had  recommended  robbing  the  public 
treasury ;  that  the  attacks  on  the  coaches  had  been 
carried  out  by  his  orders,  which  had  been  "  to  stop 
them  all."  She  accused  her  mother  of  helping  to 
transport  the  booty  to  Caen ;  herself  she  accused  of 
having  sheltered  the  brigands.  The  only  ones  she 
excused  were  Joseph  Buquet,  who  had  only  carried 
out  her  instructions,  and  Le  Chevalier  whom  she 
represented  as  beguiled  by  d*Ache's  misleading  prom- 
ises. Her  "  frantic  passion  "  was  apparent  in  every 
word  she  uttered :  she  even  told  Licquet  that  "  if  she 
could  save  Le  Chevalier's  life  at  the  cost  of  her  own 
she  would  not  hesitate." 

When  she  had  finished  her  long  declaration,  she 
fell  into  a  state  of  deep  depression.  On  entering  the 
prison  next  day,  Licquet  found  her  engaged  in  cutting 
off  her  magnificent  hair,  which,  she  said  sadly,  she 
wished  to  save  from  the  executioner.  She  observed 
that  since  she  was  miserably  destined  to  die,  Chauvel, 
who  called  himself  her  friend,  had  done  very  wrong 
in  preventing  her  from  taking  poison  :  all  would  have 
been  over  by  now.  But  she  hoped  that  grief  would 
kill  her  before  they  had  time  to  condemn  her. 

As  she  said  these  words  she  turned  her  beautiful 
piercing  eyes  to  a  dark  corner  of  her  cell.  Licquet, 
following  her  gaze,  saw  a  very  prominent  nail  stick- 
ing in  the  wall  at  a  height  of  about  six  feet.  With- 
out letting  her  see  his  anxiety,  he  tried  to  direct  the 
prisoner's  attention  to  other  objects,  and  succeeded  in 
working  her  up  to  a  state  of  "  wild  gaiety." 


MADAME  ACQUET  201 

That  very  day  the  nail  was  taken  out,  but  there 
still  remained  the  bolts  of  the  door  and  the  bed-posts, 
to  which,  being  of  such  low  stature,  she  could  hang  her- 
self; a  woman  from  Bicetre  was  therefore  set  to 
watch  her. 

It  would  be  impossible  to  follow  Licquet  through 
all  the  phases  of  the  inquiry.  This  diabolical  man 
seems  to  have  possessed  the  gift  of  ubiquity.  He 
was  in  the  prison  where  he  worked  upon  the  prison- 
ers ;  at  the  prefecture  directing  the  examinations ;  at 
Caen,  making  inquiries  under  the  very  nose  of  Caf- 
farelli,  who  believed  that  the  affair  had  long  since 
been  buried  ;  at  Falaise,  where  he  was  collecting  testi- 
mony ;  at  Honfleur,  at  Pont-Audemer,  at  Paris.  He 
drew  up  innumerable  reports,  and  sent  them  to  the 
prefect  or  to  Real,  with  whom  he  corresponded 
directly,  and  when  he  was  asked  what  reward  he  was 
ambitious  of  obtaining  for  his  devoted  service  to  the 
State,  he  replied  philosophically  :  "  I  do  not  work  for 
my  own  glory,  but  only  for  that  of  the  police  gen- 
erally, and  of  our  dear  Councillor,  whom  I  love  with 
all  my  heart.  As  for  me,  poor  devil,  I  am  destined  to 
remain  obscure,  which,  I  must  say,  pleases  me,  since  I 
recognise  the  inconvenience  of  having  a  reputation." 

One  of  the  most  picturesque  events  of  his  enquiry 
was  another  journey  taken  towards  the  end  of  Octo- 
ber by  the  false  Captain  Delaitre  and  his  false  nephew 
in  search  of  Allain  and  Buquet,  whom  they  had  not 
found  on  the  day  mentioned  at  the  inn  at  Cany.  At 
Caen   Delaitre   saw  again  the  lawyer  Langelley,  the 


202     THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

Placenes  and  Monderard's  daughter,  and  they  enter- 
tained him.  He  gave  them  very  good  news  of  Mme. 
Acquet,  who,  he  said,  was  comfortably  settled  at  a 
place  on  the  English  coast ;  but  although  he  had  a 
very  important  letter  for  Allain,  which  Mme.  de 
Combray  wished  him  to  take  to  England  without  de- 
lay, the  wily  Chouan  did  not  show  himself.  His 
daughter,  who  had  set  up  as  a  dressmaker  at  Caen 
and  was  in  communication  with  Mme.  Placene,  un- 
dertook, however,  to  forward  the  letter  to  him.  The 
Captain  announced  his  intention  of  following  the  girl 
in  the  hope  of  discovering  her  father's  retreat,  but 
Langelley  and  the  others  assured  him  that  it  would  be 
a  waste  of  time.  The  young  girl  alone  knew  where 
the  outlaw  was  hidden  and  "  each  time  she  went  to 
take  him  news,  she  disguised  herself,  entered  a  house, 
disguised  herself  afresh  before  leaving,  went  into 
another  house,  changed  her  costume  yet  again,  and  so 
on.  It  was  impossible  to  be  sure  when  she  came  out 
of  each  house  that  it  was  the  same  person  who  had 
gone  in,  and  to  know  in  which  her  father  was." 
Two  days  later  the  girl  reappeared.  She  said  that 
her  father  had  gone  to  his  own  home  near  Cherbourg, 
where  "he  had  property."  He  wanted  to  sell  his 
furniture  and  lease  his  land  before  going  to  England. 
This  was  the  other  side  of  the  terrible  "  General  An- 
tonio." He  was  a  good  father  and  a  small  landed 
proprietor.  Delaitre  realised  that  this  was  a  defeat, 
and  that  Allain  was  not  easily  to  be  beguiled.  He 
did  not  persist,  but  packed  up  his  traps  and  returned 
to  Rouen. 


MADAME  ACQUET  203 

This  check  was  all  the  more  painful  to  Licquet, 
since  he  had  hoped  that  by  attracting  Allain,  d'Ache 
would  also  be  ensnared.  Without  the  latter,  who 
was  evidently  the  head  of  the  conspiracy,  only  the 
inferiors  could  be  arraigned,  and  the  part  of  the  prin- 
cipal criminal  would  have  to  be  passed  over  in  silence, 
in  consequence  of  which  the  affair  would  sink  to  the 
proportions  of  common  highway  robbery.  Stimulated 
by  these  motives,  and  still  more  so  by  his  amour- 
propre,  Licquet  set  out  for  Caen.  His  joy  in  action 
was  so  keen  that  it  pervades  all  his  reports.  He  de- 
scribes himself  as  taking  the  coach  with  Delaitre,  his 
nephew  and  "  two  or  three  active  henchmen."  He 
is  so  sure  of  success  that  he  discounts  it  in  advance : 
"  I  do  not  know,"  he  writes  to  Real,  *'  whether  I  am 
flattering  myself  too  much,  but  I  am  tempted  to  hope 
that  the  author  will  be  called  for  at  the  end  of  the 
play." 

It  is  to  be  regretted  that  we  have  no  details  of  this 
expedition.  In  what  costume  did  Licquet  appear  at 
Caen  ?  What  personality  did  he  assume  ?  How  did 
he  carry  out  his  manoeuvres  between  Mme.  Acquet's 
friends,  his  confederate  Delaitre  and  the  Prefect  Caf- 
farelli,  without  arousing  any  one's  suspicion  or  wound- 
ing their  susceptibilities  ?  It  is  impossible  to  disen- 
tangle this  affair;  he  was  an  adept  at  troubling  water 
that  he  might  safely  fish  in  it,  and  seemed  jealous  to 
such  a  degree  of  the  means  he  employed,  that  he 
would  not  divulge  the  secret  to  any  one.  With  an 
instinctive  love  of  mystification,  he  kept  up  during 
his  journey  an  official  correspondence  with  his  pre- 


204    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

feet  and  a  private  one  with  Real.  He  told  one  what 
he  would  not  confess  to  the  other;  he  wrote  to 
Savoye-Rollin  that  he  was  in  a  hurry  to  return  to 
Rouen,  while  by  the  same  post  he  asked  Real  to  get 
him  recalled  to  Paris  during  the  next  twenty-four 
hours.  "  If  you  adopt  this  idea,  Monsieur,  you  must 
be  kind  enough  to  select  a  pretext  which  will  not 
wound  or  even  scratch  any  one's  amour-propre." 
The  "  any  one "  mentioned  here  is  Savoye-Rollin. 
What  secret  had  Licquet  discovered,  that  he  did  not 
dare  to  confide,  except  orally,  and  then  only  to  the 
Imperial  Chief  of  Police  ?  We  believe  that  we  are 
not  wrong  in  premising  that  scarcely  had  he  arrived 
at  Caen  when  he  laid  hands  on  a  witness  so  impor- 
tant, and  at  the  same  time  so  difficult  to  manipulate, 
that  he  was  himself  frightened  at  this  unexpected 
coup  de  theatre. 

Whilst  ferreting  about  in  the  prisons  to  which  he 
had  obtained  access  that  he  might  talk  to  Lanoe  and 
the  Buquets,  he  met  Acquet  de  Ferolles,  who  had 
been  forgotten  there  for  three  months.  Whether 
Mme.  de  Placene  was,  as  Vannier  suspected,  em- 
ployed by  the  police  and  knew  Licquet's  real  person- 
ality, or  whether  the  latter  found  another  intermedi- 
ary, it  is  certain  that  he  obtained  Acquet  de  Ferolles* 
confidence  from  the  beginning,  and  that  he  got  the 
credit  of  having  him  set  at  liberty.  It  was  after  this 
interview  that  Licquet  asked  Real  to  recall  him  to 
Paris  for  twenty-four  hours.  His  journey  took  place 
in  the  early  days  of  November,  and  on  the  I2th,  on 
an  order  from   Real  Acquet  was  rearrested  and  taken 


MADAME  ACQUET  205 

in  a  post-chaise  from  Donnay  to  Paris,  escorted  by  a 
sergeant  of  police.  On  the  i6th  he  was  entered  in 
the  Temple  gaol-book,  and  Real,  who  hastened  to  in- 
terrogate him,  showed  him  great  consideration,  and 
promised  that  his  detention  should  not  be  long.  A 
note,  which  is  still  to  be  found  among  the  papers 
connected  with  this  affair,  seems  to  indicate  that  this 
incarceration  was  not  of  a  nature  to  cause  great  alarm 
to  the  Lord  of  Donnay  :  "  M.  Acquet  has  been  taken 
to  Paris  that  he  may  not  interfere  with  the  proceed- 
ings against  his  wife.  .  .  .  It  is  known  that  he 
is  unacquainted  with  his  wife's  offence,  but  M.  Real 
believes  it  necessary  to  keep  him  at  a  distance."  That 
was  not  the  tone  in  which  the  police  of  that  period 
usually  spoke  of  their  ordinary  prisoners,  and  it  seems 
advisable  to  call  attention  to  the  fact.  Let  us  add 
that  the  royalists  detained  in  the  Temple  were  not 
taken  in  by  it.  M.  de  Revoire,  an  old  habitue  of  the 
prison,  who  spent  the  whole  of  the  Imperial  period  in 
captivity  told  the  Combray  family  after  the  Restora- 
tion, that  all  the  prisoners  considered  Acquet  "  as  a 
spy,  an  informer,  the  whole  time  he  was  in  the  Tem- 
ple." After  a  week's  imprisonment  and  three  weeks' 
surveillance  in  Paris,  he  was  set  at  liberty  and  re- 
turned to  Donnay. 

From  the  comparison  of  these  facts  and  dates,  is 
one  not  led  to  infer  that  Licquet  had  persuaded 
Acquet  without  much  difficulty  we  may  be  sure,  to 
become  his  wife's  accuser  ?  But  the  desire  not  to 
compromise  himself,  and  still  more  the  dread  of 
reprisals,  shut  the  mouth  of  the  unworthy  husband  at 


2o6    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

Caen,  eager  though  he  was  to  speak  in  Paris,  provided 
that  no  one  should  suspect  the  part  he  was  playing ; 
hence  this  sham  imprisonment  in  the  Temple — evi- 
dently Licquet's  idea — which  gave  him  time  to  make 
revelations  to  Real. 

Whatever  it  may  have  been,  this  incident  inter- 
rupted Licquet's  journey  to  Caen.  He  continued  it 
towards  the  middle  of  November,  quitting  Rouen  on 
the  1 8th,  still  accompanied  by  Delaitre  and  others  of 
his  cleverest  men.  This  time  he  represented  himself 
as  an  inspector  of  taxes,  which  gave  him  the  right  of 
entering  houses  and  visiting  even  the  cellars.  His 
aim  was  to  unearth  Allain,  Buquet  and  especially 
d'Ache,  but  none  of  them  appeared.  We  cannot  deal 
with  this  third  journey  in  detail,  as  Licquet  has  kept 
the  threads  of  the  play  secret,  but  from  half-confi- 
dences made  to  Real,  we  may  infer  that  he  bought 
the  concurrence  of  Langelley  and  Chauvel  on  formal 
promises  of  immunity  from  punishment;  they  con- 
sented to  serve  the  detective  and  betray  Allain,  and 
they  were  on  the  point  of  delivering  him  up  when 
"  fear  of  the  Gendarme  Mallet  caused  everything  to 
fail."  Licquet  fell  back  with  his  troop,  taking  with 
him  Chauvel,  Mallet  and  Langelley,  who  were  soon 
to  be  followed  by  Lanoe,  Vannier,  Placene  and  all  the 
Buquets,  save  Joseph,  who  had  not  been  seen  again. 
But  before  starting  on  his  return  journey  to  Rouen, 
Licquet  wished  to  pay  his  respects  to  Count  Caf-^ 
farelli,  the  Prefect  of  Calvados,  in  whose  territory  he 
had  just  been  hunting.  The  latter  did  not  conceal 
his   displeasure,  and   thought  it  strange  that  his  own 


MADAME  ACQUET  207 

gendarmes  should  be  ordered  to  proceed  with  criminal 
cases  and  to  make  arrests  of  which  they  neglected 
even  to  inform  him.  Licquet  states  that  after  "  look- 
ing black  at  him,  CafFarelli  laughed  till  he  cried " 
over  the  stories  of  the  false  Captain  Delaitre  and  the 
false  inspector  of  taxes.  It  is  probable  that  the  story 
was  well  told ;  but  the  Prefect  of  Calvados  was  none 
the  less  annoyed  at  the  unceremonious  procedure,  as 
he  testified  a  little  later  with  some  blustering. 
Licquet,  moreover,  was  not  deceived  :  on  his  return 
from  Caen,  he  wrote:  "Behold,  I  have  quarrelled 
with  the  Prefect  of  Calvados." 

However,  he  cared  very  little  about  it.  It  had 
been  tacitly  decreed  that  the  robbery  at  Quesnay 
should  be  judged  by  a  special  court  at  Rouen. 
Licquet  became  the  organiser  and  stage-manager  of 
the  proceedings.  At  the  end  of  1807  he  had  under 
lock  and  key  thirty-eight  prisoners  whom  he  ques- 
tioned incessantly,  and  kept  in  a  state  of  uncertainty 
as  to  whether  he  meant  to  confront  them  with 
each  other.  But  he  declared  himself  dissatisfied. 
D'Ache's  absence  spoiled  his  joy.  He  quite  under- 
stood that  without  the  latter,  his  triumph  would  be 
incomplete,  his  work  would  remain  unfinished,  and  it 
was  doubtless  due  to  this  torturing  obsession  that  he 
owed  the  idea,  as  cruel  as  it  was  ingenious,  of  a  new 
drama  of  which  the  old  Marquise  de  Combray  was 
again  the  victim. 

On  a  certain  day  of  November,  1807,  she  heard 
from  her  cell  an  unusual  tumult  in  the  passages  of  the 
prison.     Doors  burst  open  and  people  called  to  each 


2o8     THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

other.  There  were  cries  of  joy,  whispers,  exclama- 
tions of  astonishment  or  vexation,  then  long  silences, 
which  left  the  prisoner  perplexed.  The  next  day 
when  Licquet  came  to  visit  her  she  noticed  that  his 
face  wore  a  troubled  expression.  He  was  very 
laconic,  mentioned  grave  events  which  were  prepar- 
ing, and  disappeared  like  a  busy  man.  To  prisoners 
everything  is  a  reason  for  hope,  and  that  night  Mme. 
de  Combray  gave  free  course  to  her  illusions.  The 
following  day  she  received  through  the  woman  De- 
laitre,  a  short  letter  from  the  honest  "  Captain  " — the 
man  who  had  saved  Mme.  Acquet,  killed  the  yellow 
horse,  and  whom  she  called  her  guardian  angel.  The 
guardian  angel  wrote  only  a  few  words  :  "  Bonaparte 
is  overthrown  -,  the  King  is  about  to  land  in  France ; 
the  prisons  are  opening  everywhere.  Write  a  letter 
at  once  to  M.  d'Ache  which  he  can  hand  to  his 
Majesty.     I  will  undertake  to  forward  it  to  him." 

It  is  a  truly  touching  fact  that  the  old  Marquise, 
whose  energy  no  fatigue,  no  moral  torture  could 
abate,  fainted  from  happiness  on  learning  of  her 
King's  return. 

The  event  realised  all  her  hopes.  For  so  many 
years  she  had  been  expecting  it  from  one  moment  to 
another,  without  ever  growing  discouraged,  that  a 
denouement  for  which  she  had  been  prepared  so  long, 
seemed  quite  natural  to  her,  and  she  immediately  made 
her  arrangements  for  the  new  life  that  was  about  to 
commence.  She  first  of  all  wrote  a  line  of  thanks  to 
the  "  good  Delaitre,"  promising  her  protection  and  as- 
suring him  that  he  should  be  rewarded  for  his  devo- 


MADAME  ACQUET  209 

tion.     She  then  wrote  to  d*Ache  a  letter  overflowing 
with  joy. 

"  I  have  reached  the  pinnacle  of  my  happiness,  my 
dear  Vicomte,"  she  wrote,  "  which  is  that  of  all 
France.  I  rejoice  in  your  glory.  M.  Delaitre  has 
rendered  me  the  greatest  services,  and  during  the  past 
two  months  has  been  constantly  journeying  in  my  be- 
half. His  wife,  my  companion  in  misfortune,  has 
turned  towards  me  his  interest  in  the  unhappy,  and 
he  has  sent  me  a  message  informing  me  of  the  great 
events  which  are  to  put  an  end  to  all  our  troubles, 
advising  me  to  write  a  letter  to  the  King  and  send  it 
to  you  to  present  to  him.  This  is  a  bright  idea,  and 
compensates  for  the  fact  that  my  son  is  not  lucky 
enough  to  be  in  his  proper  place,  as  we  desired  and 
planned.  Your  dear  brother  in  chains  is  only  sup- 
ported by  the  thought  of  your  glory.  I  do  not  know 
how  to  speak  to  a  king  so  great  by  reason  of  his 
courage  and  virtue.  I  have  allowed  my  heart  to 
speak,  and  I  count  upon  you  to  obtain  the  favour  of  a 
visit  from  him  at  Tournebut.  The  prisons  are  open 
everywhere.  ...  I  have  borne  my  imprison- 
ment courageously  for  three  years,  but  fell  ill  on  hear- 
ing the  great  news.  You  will  let  me  know  in  time 
if  I  am  to  have  the  happiness  of  entertaining  the 
King.  It  is  very  bold  of  me  to  ask  if  such  a  favour 
is  possible  in  a  house  which  I  believe  to  be  devastated 
by  commissioners  who  have  exhausted  on  it  their  rage 
at  not  finding  you  there.  Render,  I  beg  of  you,  to 
M.  Delaitre  all  that  I  owe  him.  You  will  know  him 
as  a  relation  of  our  poor  Raoul.  He  is  inspired  with 
the  same  sentiments  and  begs  you  to  let  him  serve 
you,  not  wishing  to  remain  idle  in  such  a  good  cause 
and  at  such  a  great  moment.  This  letter  bears  the 
marks     of     our     imprisonment.      Accept,  my    dear 


210    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

Vicomte,  my  sentiments  of  attachment  and  venera- 
tion. 

"  I  have  the  honour  to  be, 

"  Your  very  humble  servant, 

"  De  Combray. 
"  I  shall  go  to  your  mother's  to  await  the  King's 
passing,  if  I  obtain  my  liberty  before  his  arrival,  and 
I  shall  have  to  go  to  Tournebut  in  order  to  have 
everything  repaired  and  made  ready  if  I  am  to  enjoy 
this  favour.     You  will  write,  and  wait  impatiently." 

The  most  heartrending  of  the  letters  despatched  by 
the  duped  old  royalist  in  her  joy,  is  the  one  destined 
for  the  King  himself.  Proud  of  his  stratagem,  Licquet 
forwarded  it  to  the  police  authorities,  who  retained  it. 
It  is  written  in  a  thick,  masculine  hand  on  large  paper 
— studied,  almost  solemn  at  the  beginning,  then,  with 
the  outpouring  of  her  thoughts,  ending  in  an  almost 
illegible  scribble.  One  feels  that  the  poor  woman 
wanted  to  say  everything,  to  empty  her  heart,  to  free 
herself  of  eighteen  years  of  mortification,  mourning 
and  suppressed  indignation.  The  following  is  the 
text  of  the  letter,  almost  complete : 

"  To  His  Majesty  Louis  XVIIL 

"  Sire  -.—From  my  prison,  where  at  the  age  of 
sixty-six,  I  as  well  as  my  son,  have  been  thrust  for 
the  last  four  months,  we  have  the  happiness  of  offer- 
ing you  our  respects  and  congratulations  on  your 
happy  accession  to  your  throne.  All  our  wishes  are 
fulfilled,  sire.     .     .     . 

"  The  few  resources  still  at  our  command  were  de- 
voted to  supporting  your  faithful  servants  of  every 
class,  and  in  saving  them  from  execution.    I  have  to  re- 


MADAME  ACQUET  211 

gret  the  loss  of  the  Chevalier  de  Margadelle,  Raoulle, 
Tamerlan  and  the  young  Tellier,  all  of  whom  were 
carried  away  by  their  zeal  for  your  Majesty's  cause 
and  fell  victims  to  it  at  Paris  and  Versailles.  I  had 
hired  a  house,  which  I  gave  up  to  them  with  all  the 
hiding-places  necessary  for  their  safety.  My  son  had 
the  good  fortune  to  be  under  the  orders  of  Messieurs 
de  Frotte  and  Ingant  de  St.  Maur. 

"  I  am  sending  my  letter  to  M.  le  Vicomte  d'Ache, 
in  order  that  he  may  present  it  to  your  Majesty  and 
solicit  a  favour  very  dear  to  my  heart — that  you  will 
condescend  to  stay  at  my  house  on  your  way  to  Paris. 
Sire,  you  will  find  my  house  open,  and,  they  say,  sur- 
rounded with  barricades,  consequences  of  the  ill-usage 
it  has  received  during  their  different  investigations, 
another  of  which  has  recently  occurred  in  the  hope 
of  finding  M.  le  Vicomte  d'Ache  and  my  daughter, 
as  well  as  repeated  sojourns  made  by  order  of  the 
prefect,  and  an  interrogation  by  his  secretary,  after 
having  been  subjected  to  an  examination  lasting  eleven 
hours  in  this  so-called  Court  of  Justice,  in  order  that 
I  might  inform  them  of  my  correspondence  with 
M.  de  Ache  as  well  as  of  a  letter  I  received  from  him 
on  the  17th  of  last  March.  The  worst  threats  have 
been  used  such  as  being  confronted  with  Le  Chevalier, 
and  my  being  sent  to  Paris  to  be  guillotined,  but  noth- 
ing terrified  me,  I  did  not  tell  them  anything  about 
my  relations  with  him  or  where  he  was  living.  I  had 
just  left  him  ten  days  previously.  My  reply  to  this 
persecution  was  that  M.  de  Ache  was  in  London,  and 
I  concluded  by  assuring  them  that  I  did  not  fear  death, 
that  I  would  fervently  perform  my  last  act  of  con- 
trition, and  that  my  head  would  fall  without  my  dis- 
closing this  interesting  mystery. 

"  My  liberty  was  promised  me  six  weeks  ago,  but 
at  the  price  of  a  large  sum  of  money,  which  is,  I  be- 
lieve, to  be  divided  between  the  prefect  and  his  secrc- 


212    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

tary  Niquct  (sic).  Half  the  sum  is  safely  under  lock 
and  key  in  the  latter's  bureau.  1  have  been  a  long 
time  trying  to  collect  the  sum  demanded,  as  I  received 
little  assistance  from  those  who  called  themselves  my 
friends.  My  very  property  was  refused  me  with  ar- 
rogant threats,  for  it  was  believed  that  I  was  to  be  put 
to  the  sword.  The  only  end  I  hoped  to  attain  by  my 
sacrifices  was  to  save  my  daughter,  upon  whose  head 
a  price  of  6,000  francs  had  been  set  at  Caen.  The 
family  Delaitre,  without  any  other  interest  in  me  than 
that  which  misfortune  inspires  have  displayed  indefati- 
gable zeal  in  my  cause,  exposing  their  lives  to  great 
danger  in  order  to  remove  her  from  Caen,  where  the 
authorities  left  no  stone  unturned. 

"  Three  of  my  servants  have  been  cast  into  prison, 
a  fourth,  named  Francois  Hebert,  commendable  for 
thirty-seven  years'  faithful  service,  defended  our  inter- 
ests, and  for  his  honesty's  sake  has  been  in  chains 
since  the  month  of  July.  What  must  he  not  have 
suffered  during  the  last  eleven  years  at  the  hands  of 
the  authorities,  the  tax  receivers  at  Harcourt,  Falaise 
and  Caen,  and  of  many  others  who  wished  his  ruin 
because  at  our  advice  he  purposely  took  the  farm  on 
our  estate,  that  he  might  there  save  your  persecuted 
followers.  He  is  well  known  to  M.  de  Frotte  whose 
esteem  he  enjoyed,  and  whom  he  received  with 
twenty-four  of  his  faithful  friends,  knowing  they 
would  be  safe  in  his  house.  All  this  anxiety  has 
greatly  impaired  his  health  and  that  of  his  wife,  who 
was  pregnant  at  the  time,  and  consequently  their  son, 
aged  eleven,  is  in  very  delicate  health.  The  Dartenet 
(sic)  family  have  caused  many  of  our  misfortunes  by 
daily  denunciations,  which  they  renewed  with  all  their 
might  in  January,  i8o6.  It  was  only  by  a  special 
providence  that  we,  as  well  as  M.  le  Vicomte  d'Ache, 
escaped  imprisonment.  My  son  hastened  to  warn 
him  not  to  return  to  our  cottage,  which  was  part  of 


MADAME  ACQUET  213 

my  dowry,  and  offended  the  Dartenets,  who  wanted 
this  tavern  that  they  might  turn  it  into  a  special  inn 
for  their  castle,  which  is  the  fruit  of  their  iniquity. 

"  My  son  and  I  both  crave  your  Majesty's  protec- 
tion and  that  of  the  princes  of  the  blood. 
"  I  respectfully  remain, 
"  Your  Majesty's  very  humble  and  obedient  servant, 

"  De  Combray." 


It  was,  as  we  see,  a  general  confession.  What  must 
have  been  the  Marquise's  grief  and  rage  on  learning 
that  she  had  been  deceived  ?  At  what  moment  did 
Licquet  cease  to  play  a  double  part  with  her  ?  With 
what  invectives  must  she  not  have  overwhelmed  him 
when  he  ceased  ?  How  did  Mme.  de  Combray  learn 
that  her  noblest  illusions  had  been  worked  upon  to 
make  her  give  up  her  daughter  and  betray  all  her 
friends  ?  These  are  things  Licquet  never  explained, 
either  because  he  was  not  proud  of  the  dubious 
methods  he  employed,  or,  more  probably,  because  he 
did  not  care  what  his  victims  thought  of  them.  Be- 
sides, his  mind  was  occupied  with  other  things. 
Mme.  de  Combray  had  hinted  to  Delaitre  that 
d'Ache  usually  stayed  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
Bayeux,  without  stating  more  precisely  where,  as  she 
was  certain  he  would  easily  be  found  beside  the 
newly  landed  King.  Licquet,  therefore,  went  in 
search  of  him,  and  his  men  scoured  the  neighbour- 
hood. Placene,  for  his  part,  annoyed  at  finding  that 
Allain  did  not  keep  his  word  and  made  no  attempt  to 
deliver  his  imprisoned  comrades,  gave  some  hints.  In 
order  to  communicate  with  Allain  and  d'Ache,  one 


214    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

was,  according  to  him,  obliged  to  apply  to  an  inn- 
keeper at  Saint-Exupere.  This  man  was  in  corre- 
spondence with  a  fellow  named  Richard,  who  acted 
as  courier  to  the  two  outlaws.  "  Between  Bayeux 
and  Saint-Lo  is  the  coal  mine  of  Litre,  and  the  vast 
forest  of  Serisy  is  almost  contiguous  to  it.  This 
mine  employed  five  or  six  hundred  workmen,  and  as 
Richard  was  employed  there  one  was  inclined  to  think 
that  the  subterranean  passages  might  serve  as  a  refuge 
to  AUain  and  d'Ache,  whether  they  were  there  in  the 
capacity  of  miners,  or  were  hidden  in  some  hut  or 
disused  ditch." 

The  information  was  too  vague  to  be  utilised,  and 
Licquet  thought  it  wiser  to  direct  his  batteries  on  an- 
other point.  He  had  under  his  thumb  one  victim 
whom  as  yet  he  had  not  tortured,  and  from  whom  he 
hoped  much  :  this  was  Mme.  Acquet.  "  She  is,"  he 
wrote,  "  a  second  edition  of  her  mother  for  hypoc- 
risy, but  surpasses  her  in  maliciousness  and  ill-nature. 
.  .  .  Her  children  seem  to  interest  her  but  little ; 
she  never  mentions  them  to  any  one,  and  her  heart  is 
closed  to  all  natural  sentiments." 

But  I  believe  that  it  was  to  excuse  himself  in  his 
chiefs  eyes  that  Licquet  painted  such  a  black  picture 
of  the  prisoner.  His  own  heart  was  closed  to  all 
compassion,  and  we  find  in  this  man  the  inexorable 
impassibility  of  a  LafFemas  or  a  Fouquier  Tinville, 
with  a  refined  irony  in  addition  which  only  added  to 
the  cruelty.  The  moral  torture  to  which  he  sub- 
jected Mme.  Acquet  is  the  product  of  an  inquisitor's 
mind.     "  At  present,"  he  remarked,  "  as  the  subject 


MADAME  ACQUET  215 

is  somewhat  exhausted,  I  shall  turn  my  attention  to 
setting  our  prisoners  against  one  another.  The  little 
encounter  may  give  us  some  useful  facts." 

The  little  encounter  broke  the  prisoner's  heart,  and 
deprived  her  of  the  only  consoling  thought  so  many 
misfortunes  had  left  her. 


CHAPTER   VIII 

PAYING   THE    PENALTY 

*'  Le  Chevalier  is  the  adored  one." 

It  was  thus  that  Licquet  summarised  his  first  con- 
versation with  Mme.  Acquet.  He  had  been  certain 
for  some  time  that  her  unbridled  passion  for  her  hero 
held  such  a  place  in  her  heart  that  it  had  stifled  all 
other  feeling.  For  his  sake  she  had  harboured 
Allain's  men ;  for  him  she  had  so  often  gone  to  brave 
the  scornful  reception  of  Joseph  Buquet ;  and  for  him 
she  had  so  long  endured  the  odious  life  in  Vannier's 
house.  Licquet  decided  that  so  violent  a  passion, 
"  well  handled,"  might  throw  some  new  light  on  af- 
fairs. This  incomparable  comedian  should  have  been 
seen  playing  his  cruel  game.  In  what  manner  did 
he  listen  to  the  love-sick  confidences  of  his  prisoner  ? 
In  what  sadly  sympathetic  tones  did  he  reply  to  the 
glowing  pictures  she  drew  of  her  lover  ?  For  she 
spoke  of  little  else,  and  Licquet  listened  silently  until 
the  moment  when,  in  a  burst  of  feeling,  he  took  both 
her  hands,  and  as  if  grieved  at  seeing  her  duped,  ex- 
claiming with  hypocritical  regard  :  "  My  poor  child  ! 
Is  it  not  better  to  tell  you  everything  ?  "  made  her 
believe  that  Le  Chevalier  had  denounced  her.  She 
refused  at  first  to  believe  it.  Why  should  her  lover 
have  done   such   an   infamous  thing  ?     But  Licquet 

216 


PAYING  THE  PENALTY  217 

gave  reasons.  Le  Chevalier,  while  in  the  Temple 
had  learned,  from  Vannier  or  others,  of  her  relations 
with  Chauvel,  and  in  revenge  had  set  the  police  on 
the  track  of  his  faithless  friend.  And  so  the  man  for 
whom  she  had  sacrificed  her  life  no  longer  loved  her  ! 
Licquet,  in  order  to  torture  her,  overwhelmed  the 
unhappy  woman  with  the  intentionally  clumsy  conso- 
lation that  only  accentuates  grief.  She  wept  much, 
and  had  but  one  thing  to  say. 

"  I  should  like  to  save  him  in  spite  of  his  ingrati- 
tude." 

This  was  not  at  all  what  the  detective  wished. 
He  had  hoped  she  would,  in  her  turn,  accuse  the  man 
who  had  betrayed  her ;  but  he  could  gain  nothing  on 
this  point.  She  felt  no  desire  for  revenge.  The 
letters  she  wrote  to  Lc  Chevalier  (Licquet  encouraged 
correspondence  between  prisoners)  are  full  of  the  sad- 
ness of  a  broken  but  still  loving  heart. 

"  It  is  not  when  a  friend  is  unfortunate  that  one 
should  reproach  him,  and  I  am  far  from  doing  so  to 
you,  in  spite  of  your  conduct  as  regards  me.  You 
know  I  did  everything  for  you, — I  am  not  reproaching 
you  for  it, — and  after  all,  you  have  denounced  me  ! 
I  forgive  you  with  all  my  heart,  if  that  can  do  you 
any  good,  but  I  know  your  reason  for  being  so  unjust 
to  me ;  you  thought  I  had  abandoned  you,  but  I  swear 
to  you  I  had  not." 

There  was  not  much  information  in  that  for 
Licquet,  and  in  the  hope  of  learning  something,  he 
excited  Mme.  Acquet  strongly  against  d'Ache.  Ac- 
cording to  him  d'Ache  was  the  one  who  first  "  sold 


2i8     THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

them  all " ;  it  was  he  who  caused  Le  Chevalier  to  be 
arrested,  to  rid  himself  of  a  troublesome  rival  after 
having  compromised  him ;  it  was  to  d'Ache  alone 
that  the  prisoners  owed  all  their  misfortunes.  And 
Licquet  found  a  painful  echo  of  his  insinuations  in 
all  Mme.  Acquet's  letters  to  her  lover ;  but  he  found 
nothing  more.  "  You  know  that  Delorriere  d'Ache  is 
a  knave,  a  scoundrel ;  that  he  is  the  cause  of  all  your 
trouble ;  that  he  alone  made  you  act ;  you  did  not 
think  of  it  yourself,  and  he  advised  you  badly.  He 
alone  deserves  the  hatred  of  the  government.  He  is 
abhorred  and  execrated  as  he  deserves  to  be,  and  there 
is  no  one  who  would  not  be  glad  to  give  him  up  or 
kill  him  on  the  spot.  He  alone  is  the  cause  of  your 
trouble.     Recollect  this ;  do  not  forget  it." 

It  is  not  necessary  to  say  that  these  letters  never 
reached  Le  Chevalier,  who  was  secretly  confined  in 
the  tower  of  the  Temple  until  Fouche  decided  his 
fate.  He  was  rather  an  embarrassing  prisoner ;  as  he 
could  not  be  directly  accused  of  the  robbery  of 
Quesnay  in  which  he  had  not  taken  part,  and  as  they 
feared  to  draw  him  into  an  affair  to  which  his  superb 
gift  of  speech,  his  importance  as  a  Chouan  gentle- 
man, his  adventurous  past  and  his  eloquent  professions 
of  faith  might  give  a  political  significance  similar  to 
that  of  Georges  Cadoudal's  trial,  there  remained  only 
the  choice  of  setting  him  at  liberty  or  trying  him 
simply  as  a  royalist  agent.  Now,  in  1808  they  did 
not  wish  to  mention  royalists.  It  was  understood 
that  they  were  an  extinct  race,  and  orders  were  given 
to  no  longer  speak  of  them  to  the  public,  which  must 


PAYING  THE  PENALTY  219 

long  since  have  forgotten  that  in  very  ancient  days 
the  Bourbons  had  reigned  in  France. 

Thus,  Real  did  not  know  what  was  to  become  of 
Le  Chevalier  when  Licquet  conceived  the  idea  of 
giving  him  a  role  in  his  comedy.  We  have  not  yet 
obtained  all  the  threads  of  this  new  intrigue. 
Whether  Licquet  destroyed  certain  over-explicit 
papers,  or  whether  he  perferred  in  so  delicate  a  matter 
to  act  without  too  much  writing,  there  remain  such 
gaps  in  the  story  that  we  have  not  been  able  to 
establish  the  correlation  of  the  facts  we  are  about  to 
reveal.  It  is  certain  that  the  idea  of  exploiting  Mme. 
Acquet's  passion  and  promising  her  the  freedom  of 
her  lover  in  exchange  for  a  general  confession,  was 
originated  by  Licquet.  He  declares  it  plainly  in  a 
letter  addressed  to  Real.  By  this  means  they  obtained 
complete  avowals  from  her.  On  December  12th  she 
gave  a  detailed  account  of  her  adventurous  life  from  the 
time  of  her  departure  from  Falaise  until  her  arrest ;  a 
few  days  later  she  gave  some  details  of  the  conspiracy 
of  which  d'Ache  was  the  chief,  to  which  we  shall  have 
to  return.  What  must  be  noted  at  present  is  this  re- 
markable coincidence:  on  the  12th  she  spoke,  after 
receiving  Licquet's  formal  promise  to  ensure  Le 
Chevalier's  escape,  and  on  the  14th  he  actually  es- 
caped from  the  Temple.  Had  Licquet  been  to  Paris 
between  these  two  dates  ?  It  seems  probable  ;  for 
he  speaks  in  a  letter  of  a  "  pretended  absence  "  which 
might  well  have  been  real. 

The  manner  of  Le  Chevalier's  escape  is  strange 
enough  to  be  described.     By   reason  of  his  excited 


220    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

condition,  "  which  threw  him  into  continual  trans- 
ports, and  which  had  seemed  to  the  concierge  of  the 
prison  to  be  the  delirium  of  fever,"  he  had  been  lodged, 
not  in  the  tower  itself,  but  in  a  dependence,  one  of 
whose  walls  formed  the  outer  wall  of  the  prison,  and 
overlooked  the  exterior  courts.  He  had  been  ill  for 
several  days,  and  being  subject  to  profuse  sweats  had 
asked  to  have  his  sheets  changed  frequently,  and  so 
was  given  several  pairs  at  a  time.  On  December  13th, 
at  eight  in  the  morning,  the  keeper  especially  attached 
to  his  person  (Savard)  had  gone  in  to  arrange  the  little 
dressing-room  next  to  Le  Chevalier's  chamber.  Re- 
turning at  one  o'clock  to  sferve  dinner,  he  found  the 
prisoner  reading  ;  at  six  in  the  evening  another  keeper 
(Carabeuf ),  bringing  in  a  light,  saw  him  stretched  on 
his  bed.  The  next  day  on  going  into  his  room  in  the 
morning,  they  found  that  he  had  fled. 

Le  Chevalier  had  made  in  the  wall  of  his  dressing- 
room,  which  was  two  yards  thick,  a  hole  large  enough 
to  slip  through.  They  saw  that  he  had  done  it  with 
no  other  tool  than  a  fork ;  two  bits  of  log,  cut  like 
wedges,  had  served  to  dislodge  and  pull  out  the  stones. 
The  operation  had  been  so  cleverly  managed,  all  the 
rubbish  having  been  carefully  taken  from  within,  that 
no  trace  of  demolition  appeared  on  the  outside.  The 
prisoner  (Vandricourt)  who  was  immediately  below 
had  not  noticed  any  unwonted  noise,  although  he  did 
not  go  to  bed  till  eleven  o'clock.  Le  Chevalier,  whose 
cell  was  sixteen  feet  above  the  level  of  the  court,  had 
also  been  obliged  to  construct  a  rope  to  descend  by  j 
he  had  plaited   it  with  long  strips  cut  from  a  pair  of 


PAYING  THE  PENALTY  221 

nankeen  breeches  and  the  cover  of  his  mattress. 
Having  got  into  the  courtyard  during  the  night  by  this 
means,  he  had  to  wait  till  the  early  morning  virhcn 
bread  was  brought  in  for  the  prisoners.  The  con- 
cierge of  the  Temple  was  in  the  habit  of  going  back 
to  bed  after  having  admitted  the  baker,  and  the  gate 
remained  open  for  "  a  quarter  of  an  hour  and  longer, 
while  bread  was  being  delivered  at  the  wickets." 

People  certainly  escaped  from  the  Temple  as  much 
as  from  any  other  prison.  The  history  of  the  old 
tower  records  many  instances  of  men  rescued  by  their 
friends  in  the  face  of  gaolers  and  guard,  but  confeder- 
ates were  necessary  for  the  success  of  these  escapes. 
Given  the  topography  of  the  Temple  in  1807,  it 
would  seem  impossible  for  one  man  alone,  with  no 
outside  assistance,  to  have  pierced  a  wall  six  feet 
thick  in  a  few  hours,  and  to  have  crossed  the  old 
garden  of  the  grand  prior,  where  in  order  to  reach, 
the  street  he  would  either  have  had  to  climb  the  other 
wall  of  the  enclosure,  or  to  pass  the  palace  and  courts 
to  get  to  the  door — that  of  the  Rue  du  Temple — 
which,  as  stated  in  the  official  report,  remained  open 
every  morning  for  twenty  minutes  during  the  baker's 
visit.  The  impossibility  of  success  leads  us  to  think 
that  if  Le  Chevalier  triumphed  over  so  many  ob- 
stacles, it  was  because  some  one  made  it  easy  for  him 
to  do  so. 

Real  put  a  man  on  his  track  who  for  ten  years  had 
been  the  closest  confidant  of  the  secrets  of  the  police, 
and  had  conducted  their  most  delicate  affairs.  This 
was  Inspector    Pasque.     With  Commissary  BefFara, 


222     THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

he  set  off  on  the  search.  Licquet,  one  of  the  first  to 
be  informed  of  Le  Chevalier's  escape,  immediately 
showed  Mme.  Acquet  the  letter  announcing  it,  taking 
care  to  represent  it,  confidentially,  as  his  own  work. 
He  received  in  return  a  copious  confession  from  his 
grateful  prisoner.  This  time  she  emptied  all  the  cor- 
ners of  her  memory,  returning  to  facts  already  re- 
vealed, adding  details,  telling  of  all  d'Ache's  comings 
and  goings,  his  frequent  journeys  to  England,  and  of 
the  manner  in  which  David  PIntrepide  crossed  the 
channel.  Licquet  tried  more  than  all  to  awaken  her 
memories  of  Le  Chevalier's  relations  with  Parisian 
society.  She  knew  that  several  ofiicial  personages 
were  in  the  "  plot,"  but  unfortunately  could  not  recol- 
lect their  names,  "although  she  had  heard  them 
mentioned,  notably  by  Lefebre,  with  whom  Le  Chev- 
alier corresponded  on  this  subject."  However,  as 
the  detective  persisted  she  pronounced  these  words, 
which  Licquet  eagerly  noted  : 

"  One  of  these  personages  is  in  the  Senate ;  M. 
Lefebre  knows  him.  Another  was  in  office  during 
the  Terror,  and  can  be  recognised  by  the  following 
indications :  he  frequently  sees  Mme.  Menard,  sister 
of  the  widow,  Mme.  Flahaut,  who  has  married  M. 

de ,  now  ambassador  to  Holland,  it  is  believed. 

This  lady  lives  sometimes  at  Falaise  and  sometimes 
in  Paris,  where  she  is  at  present.  This  individual  is 
small,  dark  and  slightly  humped ;  he  has  great  intel- 
lect, and  possesses  the  talent  for  intrigue  in  a  high 
degree.  The  other  personages  are  rich.  The  declar- 
ant  cannot    state   their   number.     Le   Chevalier  in- 


PAYING  THE  PENALTY  223 

formed  her  that  affairs  were  going  well  in  Paris,  that 
they  were  awaiting  news  of  the  Prince's  arrival  to 
declare  for  him." 

Licquet  compelled  Mme.  Acquet  to  repeat  these 
important  declarations  before  the  prefect,  and  on  the 
23d  of  December,  she  signed  them  in  Savoye-Rollin's 
office.  The  same  evening  Licquet  tried  to  put  names 
to  all  these  anonymous  persons.  With  the  prisoner 
by  his  side  and  the  imperial  almanac  in  his  hand,  he 
went  over  the  list  of  senators,  great  dignitaries  and 
notabilities  of  the  army  and  the  administration,  but 
without  success.  "  The  names  that  were  pronounced 
before  her,"  he  wrote  to  Real,  "  are  effaced  from  her 
memory ;  perhaps  Lefebre  will  tell  us  who  they  are." 

The  lawyer,  in  fact,  since  he  saw  things  becoming 
blacker,  had  been  very  loquacious  with  Licquet.  He 
cried  with  fear  when  in  the  prefect's  presence,  and 
promised  to  tell  all  he  knew,  begging  them  to  have 
pity  on  "  the  unfortunate  father  of  a  family."  He 
spoke  so  plainly,  this  time,  that  Licquet  himself  was 
astounded.  The  lawyer  had  it  indeed  from  Le  Chev- 
alier, that  the  day  the  Due  de  Berry  landed  in  France, 
the  Emperor  would  be  arrested  by  two  officers  "  who 
were  always  near  his  person,  and  who  each  of  them 
would  count  on  an  army  of  forty  thousand  men  !  " 
And  when  Lefebre  was  brought  before  the  prefect  to 
repeat  this  accusation,  and  gave  the  general's  names, 
Savoye-Rollin  was  so  petrified  with  astonishment  that 
he  dared  not  insert  them  in  the  official  report  of  the 
inquiry ;  furthermore,  he  refused  to  write  them  with 
his  own   hand,  and   compelled  the  lawyer  himself  to 


224    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

put  on  paper  this  blasphemy  before  which  official  pens 
recoiled. 

"Lefebre  insists,"  wrote  Savoye-Rollin  to  Real, 
"  that  Le  Chevalier  would  never  tell  him  the  names 
of  all  the  conspirators.  Lefebre  has,  however,  given 
two  names,  one  of  which  is  so  important  and  seems 
so  improbable,  that  I  cannot  even  admit  a  suspicion 
of  it.  Out  of  respect  for  the  august  alliance  which 
he  has  contracted,  I  have  not  put  his  name  in  the  re- 
port of  the  inquiry  ;  it  is  added  to  my  letter,  in  a 
declaration  written  and  signed  by  the  prisoner."  And 
in  his  letter  there  is  a  note  containing  these  lines  over 
Lefebre's  signature  :  "  I  declare  to  Monsieur  le  Pre- 
fect de  la  Seine  Inferieur  that  the  two  generals  whom 
I  did  not  name  in  my  interrogation  to-day  and  who 
were  pointed  out  to  me  by  M.  le  Chevalier,  are  the 
Generals  Bernadotte  and  Massena." 

Bernadotte  and  Massena !  At  the  ministry  of  po- 
lice they  pretended  to  laugh  heartily  at  this  foolish 
notion ;  but  perhaps  some  who  knew  the  "  true  in- 
wardness "  of  certain  old  rivalries — Fouche  above  all 
— thought  it  less  absurd  and  impossible  than  they  ad- 
mitted it  to  be.  This  fiend  of  a  man,  with  his  way 
of  searching  to  the  bottom  of  his  prisoners'  con- 
sciences, was  just  the  one  to  find  out  that  in  France 
Bonaparte  was  the  sole  partisan  of  the  Empire.  In 
any  case  these  were  not  ideas  to  be  circulated 
freely,  and  from  that  day  Real  promised  himself 
that  if  Pasque  and  BefFara  succeeded  in  finding  Le 
Chevalier,  he  should  never  divulge  them  before  any 
tribunal. 


PAYING  THE  PENALTY  225 

The  two  agents  had  established  a  system  of  sur- 
veillance on  all  the  roads  of  Normandy,  but  without 
much  hope :  Le  Chevalier,  who  had  escaped  so 
many  spies  and  got  out  of  so  many  snares  during  the 
past  eight  years,  was  considered  to  bear,  as  it  were,  a 
charmed  life.  He  was  taken,  however,  and  as  his 
escape  had  seemed  to  be  the  result  of  the  detective's 
schemes,  so  in  the  manner  in  which  he  again  fell  into 
the  hands  of  Real's  agents  was  Licquet's  handiwork 
again  recognised.  The  latter,  indeed,  was  the  only 
one  who  knew  enough  to  make  the  capture  possible. 
In  his  long  conversation  with  Mme.  Acquet,  he  had 
learned  that  in  leaving  Caen  in  the  preceding  May, 
Le  Chevalier  had  confided  his  five-year-old  son  to  his 
servant  Marie  Humon,  with  orders  to  take  him  to  his 
friend  the  Sieur  Guilbot  at  Evreux.  At  the  begin- 
ning of  August  the  child  had  been  taken  to  Paris  and 
placed  with  Mme.  Thiboust,  Le  Chevalier's  sister-in- 
law. 

In  what  way  was  the  son  used  to  capture  the 
father  ?  We  have  never  been  able  thoroughly  to 
clear  up  this  mystery.  The  accounts  that  have  been 
given  of  this  great  detective  feat  are  evidently  fan- 
tastic, and  remain  inexplicable  without  the  interven- 
tion of  a  comrade  betraying  Le  Chevalier  after  having 
given  him  unequivocal  proofs  of  devotion.  Thus,  it 
has  been  said  that  Real,  "  having  recourse  to  extraor- 
dinary means,"  could  have  caused  the  arrest  of  "  the 
sister-in-law  and  daughter  of  the  fugitive,  and  their 
incarceration  in  the  prisons  of  Caen  with  filthy  and 
disreputable  women."     Le    Chevalier,   informed    of 


226    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

their  incarceration — by  whom  ? — would  have  offered 
himself  in  place  of  the  two  women,  and  the  police 
would  have  accepted  the  bargain. 

Told  in  this  manner,  the  story  does  not  at  all  agree 
with  the  documents  we  have  been  able  to  collect. 
Le  Chevalier  had  no  daughter,  and  no  trace  is  to  be 
found  of  the  transference  of  Mme.  Thiboust  to 
Caen.  The  other  version  is  no  more  admissible. 
Scarcely  out  of  the  Temple,  we  are  assured,  the  out- 
law would  not  have  been  able  to  resist  the  desire  to 
see  his  son,  and  would  have  sent  to  beg  Mme.  Thi- 
boust— by  whom  again  ? — to  bring  him  to  the  Passage 
des  Panoramas.  Naturally  the  police  would  follow 
the  woman  and  child,  and  Le  Chevalier  be  taken  in 
their  arms.  It  is  difficult  to  imagine  so  sharp  a  man 
setting  such  a  childish  trap  for  himself,  even  if  his 
adventurous  life  had  not  accustomed  him  for  a  long 
time  to  live  apart  from  his  family. 

The  truth  is  certainly  far  otherwise.  It  is  neces- 
sary, first  of  all,  to  know  who  let  Le  Chevalier  out 
of  prison.  Mme.  de  Noel,  one  of  his  relations,  said 
later,  that  "  they  had  offered  employment  to  the  pris- 
oner if  he  would  denounce  his  accomplice,"  which 
offer  he  haughtily  refused.  As  his  presence  was  em- 
barrassing, his  gaolers  were  ordered  "  to  let  him  go  out 
on  parole  in  the  hope  that  he  would  not  come  back," 
and  could  then  be  condemned  for  escaping.  Le 
Chevalier  profited  by  the  favour,  but  returned  at  the 
appointed  time.  This  toleration  was  not  at  all  sur- 
prising in  this  strange  prison,  the  theatre  of  so 
many  adventures  that  will  always  remain  mysteries. 


PAYING  THE  PENALTY  227 

Desmarets  tells  how  the  concierge  Boniface  allowed 
an  important  prisoner,  Sir  Sidney  Smith,  to  leave  the 
Temple,  "  to  walk,  take  baths,  dine  in  town,  and 
even  go  out  hunting  ;  "  the  commodore  never  failed 
to  return  to  sleep  in  his  cell,  and  "took  back  his 
parole  in  reentering." 

It  was  necessary  then,  for  some  one  to  undertake 
to  get  Le  Chevalier  out  of  the  Temple,  as  he  would 
not  break  his  parole  when  he  was  outside ;  and  this 
explains  the  simulated  escape.  What  cannot  be  es- 
tablished, unfortunately,  is  the  part  taken  by  Fouche 
and  Real.  Were  they  the  instigators  or  the  dupes  ? 
Did  they  esteem  it  better  to  feign  ignorance,  or  was 
it  in  reality  the  act  of  subalterns  working  unknown  to 
their  chiefs  ?  In  any  case,  no  one  for  a  moment  be- 
lieved in  the  wall  two  yards  thick  bored  through  in 
one  night  by  the  aid  of  a  fork,  any  more  than  in  the 
rope-ladder  made  from  a  pair  of  nankeen  breeches. 
Real,  in  revenge,  dismissed  the  concierge  of  the 
prison,  put  the  gaoler  Savard  in  irons,  and  exacted  a 
report  on  "  all  the  circumstances  that  could  throw  any 
light  on  the  acquaintances  the  prisoner  must  have  had 
in  the  prison  to  facilitate  his  escape." 

It  seems  very  probable  that  Licquet,  either  directly 
or  through  an  agent  like  Perlet,  in  whom  Le  Cheva- 
lier had  the  greatest  confidence,  had  had  a  hand  in 
this  escape.  As  soon  as  the  prisoner  was  free,  as 
soon  as  Mme.  Acquet  had  given  up  all  her  secrets  as 
the  price  of  her  lover's  liberty,  it  only  remained  to 
secure  him  again,  and  the  means  employed  to  gain 
this  end  must  have  been  somewhat  discreditable,  for 


228    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

in  the  reports  sent  to  the  Emperor,  who  was  daily  in- 
formed of  the  progress  of  the  affair,  things  were 
manifestly  misrepresented.  The  following  facts  can- 
not be  questioned :  Le  Chevalier  had  found  in  Paris 
"an  impenetrable  retreat  where  he  could  boldly  defy 
all  the  efforts  of  the  police  j "  Fouche,  guessing  at  the 
feelings  of  the  fugitive,  issued  a  warrant  against  Mme. 
Thiboust.  By  whom  was  Le  Chevalier  informed  in 
his  hiding-place  of  his  sister-in-law's  arrest  ?  It  is 
here,  evidently,  that  a  third  person  intervened.  How- 
ever that  may  be,  the  outlaw  wrote  to  Fouche  "  offer- 
ing to  show  himself  as  soon  as  the  woman  who  acted 
as  a  mother  to  his  son  should  be  set  at  liberty." 
Fouche  had  Mme.  Thiboust  brought  before  him,  and 
gave  her  a  safe  conduct  of  eight  days  for  Le  Cheva- 
lier, with  positive  and  reiterated  assurance  that  he 
would  give  him  a  passport  for  England  as  soon  as  he 
should  deliver  himself  up. 

Mme.  Thiboust  returned  home  to  the  Rue  des 
Martyrs,  where  Le  Chevalier  came  to  see  her ;  it  was 
the  evening  of  the  5th  of  January,  1808.  He  cov- 
ered his  little  son  with  kisses  and  put  him  in  bed  : 
the  child  always  remembered  the  caresses  he  received 
that  evening.  Mme.  Thiboust,  who  did  not  put 
much  faith  in  Fouche's  promises,  begged  her  brother- 
in-law  to  flee.  "  No,  no,"  he  replied  ;  and  later  on 
she  reported  his  answer  thus:  "The  minister  has 
kept  his  promise  in  setting  you  at  liberty  and  I  must 
keep  mine — honour  demands  it ;  to  hesitate  would  be 
weak,  and  to  fail  would  be  a  crime."  On  the  morn- 
ing of  the  6th,  persuaded — or  pretending  to  be — that 


PAYING  THE  PENALTY  229 

Fouche  was  going  to  assist  his  crossing  to  England, 
he  embraced  his  child  and  sister-in-law. 

"  Come,"  he  said,  "  it  is  Twelfth-Night,  and  it  is 
a  fine  day ;  have  a  mass  said  for  us,  and  get  breakfast 
ready.     I  shall  be  back  in  two  hours.** 

Two  hours  later  Inspector  Pasque  restored  him  to 
the  Temple,  and  saw  that  he  was  put  "hands  and  feet 
in  irons,  in  the  most  rigorous  seclusion,  under  the 
surveillance  of  a  police  agent  who  was  not  to  leave 
him  day  or  night." 

The  same  evening  Fouche  sent  the  Emperor  a  re- 
port which  contained  no  mention  of  the  chivalrous 
conduct  of  Le  Chevalier ;  it  said  that  "  the  police  had 
seized  this  brigand  at  the  house  of  a  woman  with 
whom  he  had  relations,  and  that  they  had  succeeded 
in  throwing  themselves  upon  him  before  he  could  use 
his  weapons."  On  the  morning  of  the  9th,  Com- 
mandant Durand,  of  the  staff,  presented  himself  at 
the  Temple,  and  had  the  irons  removed  from  the 
prisoner,  who  appeared  at  noon  before  a  military 
commission  in  a  hall  in  the  stafF  office,  7  Quoi  Vol- 
taire. This  expeditious  magistracy  was  so  sparing  of 
its  paper  and  ink  that  it  took  no  notes.  It  played,  in 
the  social  organisation,  the  role  of  a  trap  into  which 
were  thrust  such  people  as  were  found  embarrassing. 
Some  were  condemned  whose  fate  is  only  known  be- 
cause their  names  have  been  found  scribbled  on  a  torn 
paper  that  served  as  an  envelope  for  police  reports. 

Le  Chevalier  was  condemned  to  death ;  he  left  the 
office  of  the  staff  at  four  o'clock  and  was  thrown 
into    the    Abbaye    to    await    execution.     While    the 


230    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

preparations  were  being  made  he  wrote  the  following 
letter  to  Mme.  Thiboust  who  had  been  three  days 
without  news,  and  it  reached  the  poor  woman  the 
next  day. 

"  Saturday^  9  January,  1808. 

"  I  am  going  to  die,  my  sister,  and  I  bequeath  you 
my  son.  1  do  not  doubt  that  you  will  show  him  all 
a  mother's  tenderness  and  care.  I  beg  you  also  to 
have  all  the  firmness  and  vigilance  that  I  should  have 
had  in  forming  his  character  and  heart. 

"  Unfortunately,  in  leaving  you  the  child  that  is  so 
dear  to  me,  I  cannot  also  leave  you  a  fortune  equal 
to  that  which  I  inherited  from  my  parents.  I  re- 
proach myself,  more  than  for  any  other  fault  in  my 
life,  for  having  diminished  the  inheritance  they  trans- 
mitted to  me.  Bring  him  up  according  to  his  actual 
fortune,  and  make  him  an  artisan,  if  you  must,  rather 
than  commit  him  to  the  care  of  strangers. 

"  One  of  my  greatest  regrets  in  quitting  this  life, 
is  leaving  it  without  having  shown  my  gratitude  to 
you  and  your  daughter. 

"  Good-bye ;  I  shall  live,  I  hope,  in  your  remem- 
brance, and  you  will  keep  me  alive  in  that  of  my  son. 

"Le  Chevalier." 

Night  had  come — a  cold  misty  winter  night — when 
the  cab  that  was  to  take  the  prisoner  to  his  execution 
arrived  at  the  door  of  the  Abbaye.  It  was  a  long 
way  from  Saint-Germain-des-Pres  to  the  barriers  by 
way  of  the  Rue  du  Four  and  Rue  de  Crenelle,  the 
Avenue  de  I'Ecole  Militaire,  and  the  tortuous  way 
that  is  now  the  Rue  Dupleix.  The  damp  fog  made 
the  night  seem  darker;  ftw  persons  were  about,  and 
the  scene  must  have  been  peculiarly  gloomy  and  for- 


PAYING  THE  PENALTY  231 

bidding.  The  cab  stopped  in  the  angle  formed  by 
the  barrier  of  Crenelle,  and  on  the  bare  ground  the 
condemned  man  stood  with  his  back  to  the  wall  of 
the  enclosure.  It  was  the  custom  at  night  executions 
to  place  a  lighted  lantern  on  the  breast  of  the  victim 
as  a  target  for  the  men. 

It  was  all  over  at  six  o'clock.  While  the  troop 
was  returning  to  town  the  grave-diggers  took  the 
corpse  which  had  fallen  beneath  the  wall  and  carried 
it  to  the  cemetery  of  Vaugirard ;  a  neighbouring 
gardener  and  an  old  man  of  eighty,  whom  curiosity 
had  led  to  the  corpse  of  this  unknown  Chouan,  served 
as  witnesses  to  the  death  certificate. 

The  death  of  Le  Chevalier  put  an  end  to  the  pros- 
ecution of  the  affair  of  Quesnay.  He  was  one  of 
those  prisoners  of  whom  the  grand  judge  said  "  that 
they  could  not  be  set  at  liberty,  but  that  the  good  of 
the  State  required  that  they  should  not  appear  before 
the  judges  "  ;  and  they  feared  that  by  pushing  the  in- 
vestigations farther  they  might  bring  on  some  great 
political  trial  that  would  agitate  the  whole  west  of 
France,  always  ready  for  an  insurrection,  and  shown 
in  the  reports  to  be  organised  for  a  new  Chouan  out- 
burst. It  is  certain  that  d'Ache's  capture  would  have 
embarrassed  Fouche  seriously,  and  in  default  of  caus- 
ing him  to  disappear  like  Le  Chevalier,  he  would 
much  have  preferred  to  see  him  escape  the  pursuit  of 
his  agents.  The  absence  of  these  two  leaders  in  the 
plot  would  enable  him  to  represent  the  robbery  of 
June  7th,  as  a  simple  act  of  brigandage  which  had  no 
political  significance  whatever. 


232    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

They  therefore  imposed  silence  on  the  gabblings 
of  Lefebre,  who  had  become  a  prey  to  such  incon- 
tinence of  denunciations  that  he  only  stopped  them 
to  lament  his  fate  and  curse  those  who  had  drawn 
him  into  the  adventure;  they  moderated  Licquet's 
zeal,  and  the  prefect  confided  to  him  the  drawing  up 
of  the  general  report  of  the  affair,  a  task  of  which  he 
acquitted  himself  so  well  that  his  voluminous  work 
seemed  to  Fouche  "  sufficiently  luminous  and  cir- 
cumstantial to  be  submitted  as  it  was  to  his  Majesty." 

Then  they  began,  but  in  no  haste,  to  concern 
themselves  with  the  trial  of  the  other  prisoners.  It 
was  necessary,  according  to  custom,  to  interrogate 
and  confront  the  forty-seven  persons  imprisoned  ;  of 
this  number  the  prosecution  only  held  thirty-two,  of 
whom  twenty-three  were  present.  These  were 
Flierle,  Harel,  Grand-Charles,  Fleur  d'£pine  and  Le 
Hericcy  who  by  Allain's  orders  had  attacked  the 
waggon;  the  Marquise  de  Combray,  her  daughter 
and  Lefebre,  instigators  of  the  crime;  Gousset  the 
carrier;  Alexandre  Buquet,  Placene,  Vannier,  Lan- 
gelley,  who  had  received  the  money ;  Chauvel  and 
Lanoe  as  accomplices,  and  the  innkeepers  of  Lou- 
vigny,  d'Aubigny  and  elsewhere  who  had  entertained 
the  brigands.  Those  absent  were  d'Ache,  Allain,  Le 
Lorault  called  "  La  Jeunesse,"  Joseph  Buquet,  the 
Dupont  girl,  and  the  friends  of  Le  Chevalier  or 
Lefebre  who  were  compromised  by  the  latter's 
revelations — Courmaceul,  Reverend,  Dusaussay,  etc., 
Grenthe,  called  "  Coeur-le-Roi,"  had  died  in  the 
conciergerie    during   the   enquiry.     Mme.   de    Com- 


PAYING  THE  PENALTY  233 

bray's  gardener,  Chatel,  had  committed  suicide  a  few 
days  after  his  arrest.  As  to  Placide  d'Ache  and  Bon- 
noeil,  it  was  decided  not  to  bring  them  to  trial  but  to 
take  them  later  before  a  military  commission.  Every- 
thing was  removed  that  could  give  the  trial  political 
significance. 

Mme.  de  Combray,  who  was  at  last  enlightened 
as  to  the  kind  of  interest  taken  in  her  by  Licquet,  and 
awakened  from  the  illusions  that  the  detective  had  so 
cleverly  nourished,  had  been  able  to  communicate 
directly  with  her  family.  Her  son  Timoleon  had 
never  approved  of  her  political  actions  and  since  the 
Revolution  had  stayed  away  from  Tournebut ;  but  as 
soon  as  he  heard  of  their  arrest  he  hurried  to  Rouen 
to  be  near  his  mother  and  brother  in  prison.  The 
letters  he  exchanged  with  Bonnoeil,  as  soon  as  it  was 
permitted,  show  a  strong  sense  of  the  situation  on  the 
part  of  both,  irreproachable  honesty  and  profound 
friendship.  This  family,  whom  it  suited  Licquet  to 
represent  as  consisting  of  spiteful,  dissolute  or  mis- 
guided people,  appears  in  a  very  different  light  in  this 
correspondence.  The  two  brothers  were  full  of 
respect  for  their  mother,  and  tenderly  attached  to 
their  sister  :  unfortunate  and  guilty  as  she  was,  they 
never  reproached  her,  nor  made  any  allusion  to  facts 
well-known  and  forgiven.  They  were  all  leagued 
against  the  common  enemy,  Acquet,  whom  they  con- 
sidered the  cause  of  all  their  suffering.  This  man 
had  returned  from  the  Temple  strengthened  by  the 
cowardly  service  he  had  rendered,  and  entered  Don- 
nay  in  triumph ;  he  did  not  try  to  conceal  his  joy  at 


234    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

all  the  catastrophes  that  had  overtaken  the  Combrays, 
and  treated  them  as  vanquished  enemies.  The  family 
held  a  council.  The  advice  of  Bonnoeil  and  Timo- 
jeon,  as  well  as  of  the  Marquise,  was  to  sacrifice 
everything  to  save  Mme.  Acquet.  They  knew  that 
her  husband's  denunciations  made  her  the  chief  cul- 
prit, and  that  the  accusation  would  rest  almost  en- 
tirely on  her.  They  determined  to  appeal  to  Chau- 
veau-Lagarde,  whom  the  perilous  honour  of  defending 
Marie-Antoinette  before  the  Revolutionary  tribunal 
had  rendered  illustrious.  The  great  advocate  under- 
took the  defence  of  Mme.  Acquet  and  sent  a  young 
secretary  named  Ducolombier,  who  usually  lived  with 
him,  to  Rouen  to  study  the  case — "  an  intriguer  call- 
ing himself  doctor,"  wrote  Licquet  scornfully.  Du- 
colombier stayed  in  Rouen  and  set  himself  to  examine 
the  condition  of  the  Combrays'  fortune.  Mme.  de 
Combray  had  consented  some  years  back  to  the  sale 
of  a  part  of  her  property,  and  Timoleon,  in  the  hope 
of  averting  financial  disaster  and  being  of  use  to  his 
mother  by  diminishing  her  responsibility,  had  suc- 
ceeded in  having  a  trustee  appointed  for  her. 

The  matter  was  brought  to  Rouen  and  it  was  there 
that,  "  for  the  safety  of  the  State,"  the  trial  took 
place  that  excited  all  Normandy  in  advance.  Curios- 
ity was  greatly  aroused  by  the  crime  committed  by 
"ladies  of  the  chateau,"  and  surprising  revelations 
were  expected,  the  examination  having  lasted  more 
than  a  year  and  having  brought  together  an  army  of 
witnesses  from  around  Falaise  and  Tournebut. 
Mme.  de   Combray's  house  in  the  Rue  des  Carmel- 


PAYING  THE  PENALTY 


^35 


ites  had  become  the  headquarters  of  the  defence. 
Mile.  Querey  had  come  out  of  prison  after  several 
weeks'  detention,  and  was  there  looking  after  the 
little  Acquets,  who  had  been  kept  at  the  pension  Du 
Saussay  in  ignorance  of  what  was  going  on  around 
them :  the  three  children  still  suffered  from  the  ill- 
treatment  they  had  received  in  infancy.  Timoleon 
also  lived  in  the  Rue  des  Carmelites  when  the  inter- 
ests of  his  family  did  not  require  his  presence  in 
Falaise  or  Paris.  There,  also,  lived  Ducolombier, 
who  had  organised  a  sort  of  central  office  in  the  house 
where  the  lawyers  of  the  other  prisoners  could  come 
and  consult.  Mme.  de  Combray  had  chosen  Maitre 
Gady  de  la  Vigne  of  Rouen  to  defend  her;  Maitre 
Denise  had  charge  of  Flierle's  case,  and  Maitre  le 
Bouvier  was  to  speak  for  Lefebre  and  Placene. 

Chauveau-Lagarde  arrived  in  Rouen  on  December 
I,  1808.  He  had  scarcely  done  so  when  he  received 
a  long  epistle  from  Acquet  de  Ferolles,  in  which  the 
unworthy  husband  tried  to  dissuade  him  from  under- 
taking the  defence  of  his  wife,  and  to  ruin  the  little 
testimony  for  the  defence  that  Ducolombier  had  col- 
lected. It  seems  that  this  scoundrelly  proceeding  im- 
mediately enlightened  the  eminent  advocate  as  to  the 
preliminaries  of  the  drama,  for  from  this  day  he 
proved  for  the  Combray  family  not  only  a  brilliant 
advocate,  but  a  friend  whose  devotion  never  dimin- 
ished. 

The  trial  opened  on  December  15th  in  the  great 
hall  of  the  Palais.  A  crowd,  chiefly  peasants,  col- 
lected as  soon  as  the  doors  were  opened  in  the  part 


236    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

reserved  for  the  public.  A  platform  had  been  raised 
for  the  twenty-three  prisoners,  among  whom  all  eyes 
searched  for  Mme.  Acquet,  very  pale,  indifferent  or 
resigned,  and  Mme.  de  Combray,  very  much  animated 
and  with  difficulty  induced  by  her  counsel  to  keep 
silent.  Besides  the  president,  Carel,  the  court  was 
composed  of  seven  judges,  of  whom  three  were  mili- 
tary ;  the  imperial  and  special  Procurer-General, 
Chopais-Marivaux,  occupied  the  bench. 

From  the  beginning  it  was  evident  that  orders  had 
been  given  to  suppress  everything  that  could  give 
political  colour  to  the  affair.  As  neither  d'Ache,  Le 
Chevalier,  Allain  nor  Bonnoeil  was  present,  nor  any 
of  the  men  who  could  claim  the  honour  of  being 
treated  as  conspirators  and  not  as  brigands,  the  judges 
only  had  the  small  fry  of  the  plot  before  them,  and 
the  imperial  commissary  took  care  to  name  the  chiefs 
only  with  great  discretion.  He  did  it  by  means  of 
epithets,  and  in  a  melodramatic  tone  that  caused  the 
worthy  people  who  jostled  each  other  in  the  hall  to 
shiver  with  terror. 

Never  had  the  gilded  panels,  which  since  the  time 
of  Louis  Xn  had  formed  the  ceiling  of  the  great  hall 
of  the  Palais,  heard  such  astonishing  eloquence ;  for 
three  hours  the  Procurer  Chopais-Marivaux  piled  up 
his  heavy  sentences,  pretentious  to  the  point  of  unin- 
telligibility.  When,  after  having  recounted  the  facts, 
the  magistrate  came  to  the  flight  of  Mme.  Acquet 
and  her  sojourn  with  the  Vanniers  and  Langelley,  and 
it  was  necessary  without  divulging  Licquet's  proceed- 
ings to  tell  of  her   arrest,  he  became  altogether  in- 


PAYING  THE  PENALTY  237 

comprehensible.  He  must  have  thought  himself 
lucky  in  not  having  before  him,  on  the  prisoners* 
bench,  a  man  bold  enough  to  show  up  the  odious  sub- 
terfuges that  had  been  used  in  order  to  entrap  the 
conspirators  and  obtain  their  confessions  ;  there  is  no 
doubt  that  such  a  revelation  would  have  gained  for 
the  two  guilty  women,  if  not  the  leniency  of  the 
judges,  the  sympathy  at  least  of  the  public,  who  all 
over  the  province  were  awaiting  with  anxious  curios- 
ity the  slightest  details  of  the  trial.  The  gazettes  had 
been  ordered  to  ignore  it ;  the  'Journal  de  Rouen  only 
spoke  of  it  once  to  state  that,  as  it  lacked  space  to 
reproduce  the  whole  trial,  it  preferred  to  abstain 
altogether;  and  but  for  a  few  of  Licquet's  notes, 
nothing  would  be  known  of  the  character  of  the  pro- 
ceedings. 

The  interrogation  of  the  accused  and  the  examina- 
tion of  the  witnesses  occupied  seven  sittings.  On 
Thursday,  December  22d,  the  Procurer-General  de- 
livered his  charge.  The  prosecution  tried  above  all 
to  show  up  the  antagonism  existing  between  Mme. 
de  Combray  and  M.  Acquet  de  Ferolles.  The  lat- 
ter's  denunciations  had  borne  fruit ;  the  Marquise 
was  represented  as  having  tried  "  to  get  rid  of  her  son- 
in-law  by  poisoning  his  drink."  And  the  old  story 
of  the  bottles  of  wine  sent  to  Abbe  Clarisse  and  of 
his  inopportune  death  were  revived  ;  all  the  unpleas- 
ant rumours  that  had  formerly  circulated  around  Don- 
nay  were  amplified,  made  grosser,  and  elevated  to  the 
position  of  accomplished  facts.  It  was  decided  that 
poison  "  was  a  weapon  familiar  to  the  Marquise  of 


238     THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

Cotnbray,"  and  as,  after  having  replied  satisfactorily 
to  all  the  first  questions  asked  her,  she  remained  mute 
on  this  point,  a  murmur  of  disapprobation  ran  round 
the  audience,  to  the  great  joy  of  Licquet.  "  The 
prisoner,"  he  notes,  "  whose  sex  and  age  at  first  ren- 
dered her  interesting,  has  lost  to-day  every  vestige  of 
popularity." 

We  know  nothing  of  Mme.  Acquet's  examination, 
and  but  little  of  Chauveau-Lagarde's  pleading ;  a 
leaf  that  escaped  from  his  portfolio  and  was  picked  up 
by  Mme.  de  Combray  gives  a  few  particulars.  This 
paper  has  some  pencilled  notes,  and  two  or  three  ques- 
tions written  to  Mme.  Acquet  on  the  prisoners' 
bench,  to  which  she  scrawled  a  few  words  in  reply. 
We  find  there  a  sketch  of  the  theme  which  the  advo- 
cate developed,  doubtless  to  palliate  his  client's  mis- 
conduct. 

"  Mme.  Acquet  is  reproached  with  her  liaisons 
with  Le  Chevalier  ;  she  can  answer — or  one  can  an- 
swer for  her — that  she  suffered  ill-treatment  of  all 
kinds  for  four  years  from  a  man  who  was  her  husband 
only  from  interest,  so  much  so  that  he  tried  to  get  rid 
of  her.  .  .  .  Fearful  at  one  time  of  being  poi- 
soned, at  another  of  having  her  brains  dashed  out, 
.  .  .  her  suit  for  separation  had  brought  her  in 
touch  with  Le  Chevalier,  whom  she  had  not  known 
until  her  husband  let  him  loose  on  her  in  order  to 
bring  about  an  understanding.     .     .     ." 

During  the  fifteen  sittings  of  the  court  a  restless 
crowd  filled  the  hall,  the  courts  of  the  Palais,  and  the 
narrow  streets  leading  to  it.     At  eight  o'clock  in  the 


PAYING  THE  PENALTY  239 

morning  of  December  30th,  the  president,  Carel,  de- 
clared the  trial  closed,  and  the  court  retired  to  "  form 
its  opinions."  Not  till  three  o'clock  did  the  bell  an- 
nounce the  return  of  the  magistrates.  The  verdict 
was  immediately  pronounced.  Capital  punishment 
was  the  portion  of  Mme.  Acquet,  Flierle,  Lefebre, 
Harel,  Grand-Charles,  Fleur  d'Epine,  Le  Hericey, 
Gautier-Boismale,  Lemarchand  and  Alexandre  Buquet. 
The  Marquise  de  Combray  was  condemned  to  twenty- 
two  years'  imprisonment  in  irons,  and  so  were  Le- 
rouge,  called  Bornet,  Vannier  and  Bureau-Placene. 
The  others  were  acquitted,  but  had  to  be  detained 
"  for  the  decision  of  his  Excellency,  the  minister-of- 
police."  The  Marquise  was,  besides,  to  restore  to 
the  treasury  the  total  sum  of  money  taken.  Whilst 
the  verdict  was  being  read,  the  people  crowded  against 
the  barriers  till  they  could  no  longer  move,  eagerly 
scanning  the  countenances  of  the  two  women.  The 
old  Marquise,  much  agitated,  declaimed  in  a  loud 
voice  against  the  Procurer-General  :  "  Ah  !  the  mon- 
ster !     The  scoundrel  I     How  he  has  treated  us  !  " 

Mme.  Acquet,  pale  and  impassive,  seemed  oblivious 
of  what  was  going  on  around  her.  When  she  heard 
sentence  of  death  pronounced  against  her,  she  turned 
towards  her  defender,  and  Chauveau-Lagarde,  rising, 
asked  for  a  reprieve  for  his  client.  Although  she  had 
been  in  prison  for  fourteen  months,  she  was,  he  said, 
"  m  an  interesting  condition."  There  was  a  murmur 
of  astonishment  in  the  hall,  and  while,  during  the  ex- 
citement caused  by  this  declaration,  the  court  delib- 
erated on  the  reprieve,   one  of  the  condemned,  Le 


240    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

Hericey,  leapt  over  the  bar,  fell  with  all  his  weight  on 
the  first  rows  of  spectators,  and  by  kicks  and  blows, 
aided  by  the  general  bewilderment,  made  a  path  for 
himself  through  the  crowd,  and  amid  shouts  and 
shoves  had  already  reached  the  door  when  a  gendarme 
nabbed  him  in  passing  and  threw  him  back  into  the 
hall,  where,  trampled  on  and  overcome  with  blows, 
he  was  pushed  behind  the  bar  and  taken  away  with 
the  other  condemned  prisoners.  The  reprieve  asked 
for  Mme.  Acquet  was  pronounced  in  the  midst  of  the 
tumult,  the  crush  at  the  door  of  the  great  hall  being 
so  great  that  many  were  injured. 

The  verdict,  which  soon  became  known  all  over 
the  town,  was  in  general  ill  received.  If  the  masses 
showed  a  dull  satisfaction  in  the  punishment  of  the 
Combray  ladies,  saying  "  that  neither  rank  nor  riches 
had  counted,  and  that,  guilty  like  the  others,  they  were 
treated  like  the  others,"  the  bourgeois  population  of 
Rouen,  still  very  indulgent  to  the  royalists,  disap- 
proved of  the  condemnation  of  the  two  women,  who 
had  only  been  convicted  of  a  crime  by  which  neither 
of  them  had  profited.  The  reprieve  granted  to  Mme. 
Acquet,  "  whose  declaration  had  deceived  no  one," 
seemed  a  good  omen,  indicating  a  commutation  of  her 
sentence.  The  nine  "  brigands  "  condemned  to  death 
received  no  pity.  Lefebre  was  not  known  in  Rouen, 
and  his  attitude  during  the  trial  had  aroused  no  sym- 
pathy ;  the  others  were  but  vulgar  actors  in  the  drama, 
and  only  interested  the  populace  hungry  for  a  specta- 
cle on  the  scaffold.  The  executions  would  take  place 
immediately,  the  judgments  pronounced  by  the  special 


PAYING  THE  PENALTY  241 

court  being  without  appeal,  like  those  of  the  former 
revolutionary  tribunals. 

The  nine  condemned  men  were  taken  to  the  con- 
ciergeric.  It  was  night  when  their  "  toilet  "  was  be- 
gun. The  high-executioner,  Charles-Andre  Ferey, 
of  an  old  Norman  family  of  executioners,  had  called 
on  his  cousins  Joanne  and  Desmarets  to  help  him, 
and  while  the  scaffold  was  being  hastily  erected  on  the 
Place  du  Vieux-Marche,  they  made  preparations  in 
the  prison.  In  the  anguish  of  this  last  hour  on  earth 
Flierle's  courage  weakened.  He  sent  a  gaoler  to  the 
imperial  procurer  to  ask  "  if  a  reprieve  would  be 
granted  to  any  one  who  would  make  important  reve- 
lations." On  receiving  a  negative  reply  the  German 
seemed  to  resign  himself  to  his  fate.  "  Since  that  is 
the  case,"  he  said,  "  I  will  carry  my  secret  to  the 
tomb  with  me." 

The  doors  of  the  conciergerie  did  not  open  until 
seven  in  the  evening.  By  the  light  of  torches  the 
faces  of  the  condemned  were  seen  in  the  cart,  moving 
above  the  crowds  thronging  the  narrow  streets.  The 
usual  route  from  the  prison  to  the  scaffold  was  by  the 
Rue  du  Gros-Horloge,  and  this  funeral  march  by 
torchlight  and  execution  at  midnight  in  December 
must  have  been  a  terrifying  event.  The  crowd,  kept 
at  a  distance,  probably  saw  nothing  but  the  glimmer- 
ing light  of  the  torches  in  the  misty  air,  and  the 
shadowy  forms  moving  on  the  platform.  According 
to  the  journal  de  Rouen  of  the  next  day,  Flierle 
mounted  first,  then  Harel,  Grand-Charles,  Fleur 
d'fipine  and  Le  Hericey  who  took  part  with  him  in 


242     THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

the  attack  on  June  7th.  Lefebre  "  passed "  sixth. 
The  knife  struck  poor  Gautier-Boismale  badly,  as 
well  as  Alexandre  Buquet,  who  died  last.  The  agony 
of  these  two  unfortunates  was  horrible,  prolonged  as 
it  was  by  the  repairs  necessary  for  the  guillotine  to 
continue  its  work.  The  bloody  scene  did  not  end  till 
half-past  eight  in  the  morning. 

The  next  day,  December  31st,  the  exhibition  on  the 
scaffold  of  Mme.  de  Combray,  Placene,  Vannier,  and 
Lerouge,  all  condenmed  to  twenty-two  years'  impris- 
onment, was  to  take  place.  But  when  they  went  to 
the  old  Marquise's  cell  she  was  found  in  such  a  state 
of  exasperation,  fearful  crises  of  rage  being  succeeded 
by  deep  dejection,  that  they  had  to  give  up  the  idea 
of  removing  her.  The  three  men  alone  were  there- 
fore tied  to  the  post,  where  they  remained  for  six 
hours.  As  soon  as  they  returned  to  the  conciergerie 
they  were  sent  in  irons  to  the  House  of  Detention  at 
the  general  hospital,  whence  they  were  to  go  to  the 
convict  prison. 

The  Marquise  had  not  twenty -two  years  to  live. 
The  thought  of  ending  her  days  in  horrible  Bicetre 
with  thieves,  beggars  and  prostitutes ;  the  humiliation 
of  having  been  defeated,  deceived  and  made  ridiculous 
in  the  eyes  of  all  Normandy ;  and  perhaps  more  than 
all,  the  sudden  comprehension  that  it  had  all  been  a 
game,  that  the  Revolution  would  triumph  in  the  end, 
that  she,  a  great  and  powerful  lady — noble,  rich,  a 
royalist — was  treated  the  same  as  vulgar  criminals, 
was  so  cruel  a  blow,  that  it  was  the  general  impression 
that  she  would  succumb  to  it.     It  is  impossible  now- 


PAYING  THE  PENALTY  243 

adays  to  realise  what  an  effect  these  revelations  must 
have  produced  on  a  mind  obstinately  set  against  all 
democratic  realities.  For  nearly  a  month  the  Mar- 
quise remained  in  a  state  of  stupefaction ;  from  the 
day  of  her  condemnation  till  January  15th  it  was  im- 
possible to  get  her  to  take  any  kind  of  nourishment. 
She  knew  that  they  were  watching  for  the  moment 
when  she  would  be  strong  enough  to  stand  the  pillory, 
and  perhaps  she  had  resolved  to  die  of  hunger.  There 
had  been  some  thought — and  this  compassionate  idea 
seems  to  have  originated  with  Licquet — of  sparing  the 
aged  woman  this  supreme  agony,  but  the  Procurer- 
General  showed  such  bitter  zeal  in  the  execution  of 
the  sentence,  that  the  prefect  received  orders  from 
Real  to  proceed.  He  writes  on  January  29th  :  "  I  am 
informed  of  her  condition  daily.  She  now  takes  light 
nourishment,  but  is  still  extremely  feeble ;  we  could 
not  just  now  expose  this  woman  to  the  pillory  without 
public  scandal." 

What  was  most  feared  was  the  indignation  of  the 
public  at  sight  of  the  torture  uselessly  inflicted  on  an 
old  woman  who  had  already  been  sufliciently  pun- 
ished. The  prefect's  words,  "without  scandal," 
showed  how  popular  feeling  in  Rouen  had  revolted  at 
the  verdict.  More  than  one  story  got  afloat.  As  the 
details  of  the  trial  were  very  imperfectly  known,  no 
journal  having  published  the  proceedings,  it  was  said 
that  the  Marquise's  only  crime  was  her  refusal  to  de- 
nounce her  daughter,  and  widespread  pity  was  felt  for 
this  unhappy  woman  who  was  considered  a  martyr  to 
maternal   love  and  royalist  faith.     Perhaps  some  of 


244    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

this  universal  homage  was  felt  even  in  the  prison,  for 
towards  the  middle  of  February  the  Marquise  seemed 
calmer  and  morally  strengthened.  The  authorities 
profited  by  this  to  order  her  punishment  to  proceed. 
It  was  February  the  17th,  and  as  one  of  her  "  attacks" 
was  feared,  they  prudently  took  her  by  surprise.  She 
was  told  that  Dr.  Ducolombier,  coming  from 
Chauveau-Lagarde,  asked  to  see  her  at  the  wicket. 
She  went  down  without  suspicion  and  was  astonished 
to  find  in  place  of  the  man  she  expected,  two  others 
whom  she  had  never  seen.  One  was  the  executioner 
Ferey,  who  seized  her  hands  and  tied  her.  The  doors 
opened,  and  seeing  the  gendarmes,  the  cart  and  the 
crowd,  she  understood,  and  bowed  her  head  in  resigna- 
tion. 

On  the  Place  du  Vieux-Marche  the  scaffold  was 
raised,  and  a  post  to  which  the  text  of  the  verdict 
was  affixed.  The  prisoner  was  taken  up  to  the  plat- 
form ;  she  seemed  quite  broken,  thin,  yet  very  im- 
posing, with  her  still  black  hair,  and  her  air  of  "  lady 
of  the  manor."  She  was  dressed  in  violet  silk,  and 
as  she  persisted  in  keeping  her  head  down,  her  face 
was  hidden  by  the  frills  of  her  bonnet.  To  spare  her 
no  humiliation  Ferey  pinned  them  up  ;  he  then  made 
her  sit  on  a  stool  and  tied  her  to  the  post,  which 
forced  her  to  hold  up  her  head. 

What  she  saw  at  the  foot  of  the  scaffold  brought 
tears  of  pride  to  her  eyes.  In  the  first  row  of  the 
crowd  that  quietly  and  respectfully  filled  the  place, 
ladies  in  sombre  dresses  were  grouped  as  close  as  pos- 
sible to  the  scaffold,  as  if  to  take  a  voluntary  part  in 


PAYING  THE  PENALTY  245 

the  punishment  of  the  old  Chouanne  ;  and  during  the 
six  hours  that  the  exhibition  lasted  the  ladies  of  high- 
est rank  and  most  distinguished  birth  in  the  town 
came  by  turns  to  keep  her  company  in  her  agony  ; 
some  of  them  even  spread  flowers  at  the  foot  of  the 
scaffold,  thus  transforming  the  disgrace  into  an  apoth- 
eosis. 

The  heart  of  the  Marquise,  which  had  not  softened 
through  seventeen  months  of  torture  and  anxiety, 
melted  at  last  before  this  silent  homage ;  tears  were 
seen  rolling  down  her  thin  cheeks,  and  the  crowd  was 
touched  to  see  the  highest  ladies  in  the  town  sitting 
round  this  old  unhappy  woman,  and  saluting  her  with 
solemn  courtesies. 

At  nightfall  Mme.  de  Combray  was  taken  back  to 
the  conciergerie ;  later  in  the  evening  she  was  sent  to 
Bicetre,  and  several  days  afterwards  Chopais-Mari- 
vaux,  thinking  he  had  served  the  Master  well,  begged 
as  the  reward  of  his  zeal  for  the  cross  of  the  Legion 
of  Honour. 


CHAPTER  IX 

THE    FATE    OF    d'aCHE 

D'AcHE,  however,  had  not  renounced  his  plans ; 
the  arrest  of  Le  Chevalier,  Mme.  de  Combray  and 
Mme.  Acquet  was  not  enough  to  discourage  him. 
It  was,  after  all,  only  one  stake  lost,  and  he  was  the 
sort  to  continue  the  game.  It  is  not  even  certain 
that  he  took  the  precaution,  when  Licquet  was  search- 
ing for  him  all  over  Normandy,  to  leave  the  Chateau 
of  Montfiquet  at  Mandeville,  where  he  had  lived 
since  his  journey  to  England  in  the  beginning  of 
1807.  Ten  months  after  the  robbery  of  Quesnay  he 
was  known  to  be  in  the  department  of  the  Eure; 
Licquet,  who  had  just  terminated  his  enquiry,  posted 
to  Louviers ;  d'Ache,  he  found,  had  been  there  three 
days  previously.  From  where  had  he  come  ?  From 
Tournebut,  where,  in  spite  of  the  search  made,  he 
could  have  lived  concealed  for  six  months  in  some 
well-equipped  hiding-place  ?  Unlikely  as  this  seems, 
Licquet  was  inclined  to  believe  it,  so  much  was  his 
own  cunning  disconcerted  by  the  audacious  cleverness 
of  his  rival.  The  letter  in  which  he  reports  to  Real 
his  investigation  in  the  Eure,  is  stamped  with  deep 
discouragement ;  he  did  not  conceal  the  fact  that  the 
pursuit  of  d'Ache  was  a  task  as  deceptive  as  it  was 
useless.     Perhaps  he  also  thought  that  Le  Chevalier's 

246 


THE  FATE  OF  D*ACH£  247 

case  was  a  precedent  to  be  followed ;  d'Ache  would 
have  been  a  very  undesirable  prisoner  to  bring  before 
a  tribunal,  and  to  get  rid  of  him  without  scandal 
would  be  the  best  thing  for  the  State.  Licquet  felt 
that  an  excess  of  zeal,  bringing  on  a  spectacular  ar- 
rest such  as  that  of  Georges  Cadoudal,  would  be  ill- 
received  in  high  quarters,  and  he  therefore  showed 
some  nonchalance  in  his  search  for  the  conspirator. 

D'Ache,  meanwhile,  showed  little  concern  on 
learning  of  the  capture  of  his  accomplices.  Lost  in 
his  illusions  he  took  no  care  for  his  own  safety,  and 
remained  at  Mandeville,  organising  imaginary  legions 
on  paper,  arranging  the  stages  of  the  King's  journey 
to  Paris,  and  discussing  with  the  Montfiquets  certain 
points  of  etiquette  regarding  the  Prince's  stay  at  their 
chateau  on  the  day  following  his  arrival  in  France. 
One  day,  however,  when  they  were  at  table — it  was 
in  the  spring  of  1808 — a  stranger  arrived  at  the 
Chateau  de  Mandeville,  and  asked  for  M.  Alexandre 
(the  name  taken  by  d'Ache,  it  will  be  remembered, 
at  Bayeux).  D'Ache  saw  the  man  himself,  and 
thinking  his  manner  suspicious,  and  his  questions  in- 
discreet, he  treated  him  as  a  spy  and  showed  him  the 
door,  but  not  before  the  intruder  had  launched  several 
threats  at  him. 

This  occurrence  alarmed  M.  de  Montfiquet,  and 
he  persuaded  his  guest  to  leave  Mandeville  for  a  time. 
During  the  following  night  they  both  started  on  foot 
for  Rubercy,  where  M.  Gilbert  de  Mondejen,  a  great 
friend  and  confidant  of  d'Ache's,  was  living  in  hiding 
from  the  police  in  the  house  of  a  Demoiselle  Genne- 


248     THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

ville.  This  old  lady,  who  was  an  ardent  royalist, 
welcomed  the  fugitives  warmly ;  they  were  scarcely 
seated  at  breakfast,  however,  when  a  servant  gave  the 
alarm.     "  Here  come  the  soldiers  !  "  she  cried. 

D'Ache  and  Mondejen  rushed  from  the  room  and 
bounded  across  the  porch  into  the  courtyard  just  as 
the  gendarmes  burst  in  at  the  gate.  They  would 
have  been  caught  if  a  horse  had  not  slipped  on  the 
wet  pavement  and  caused  some  confusion,  during 
which  they  shut  themselves  into  a  barn,  escaped  by  a 
door  at  the  back,  and  jumping  over  hedges  and  ditches 
gained  a  little  wood  on  the  further  side  of  the  Tortoue 
brook. 

But  d'Ache  had  been  seen,  and  from  that  day  he 
was  obliged  to  resume  his  wandering  existence,  living 
in  the  woods  by  day  and  tramping  by  night.  He  was 
entirely  without  resources,  for  he  had  no  money,  but 
was  certain  of  finding  a  refuge,  in  case  of  need,  in 
this  region  where  malcontents  abounded  and  all  doors 
opened  to  them.  In  this  way  he  reached  the  forest 
of  Serisy,  a  part  of  which  had  formerly  belonged  to 
the  Montfiquets;  it  was  here  that  the  abandoned 
mines  were  situated  that  had  been  mentioned  to  Lic- 
quet  as  Allain's  place  of  refuge.  Though  obliged  to 
abandon  the  Chateau  de  Mandeville,  where,  as  well 
as  at  Rubercy,  the  gendarmes  had  made  a  search, 
d'Ache  did  not  lack  shelter  around  Bayeux.  A  Ma- 
dame Chivre,  who  lived  on  the  outskirts  of  the  town, 
had  for  fifteen  years  been  the  providence  of  the  most 
desperate  Chouans,  and  d'Ache  was  sure  of  a  wel- 
come   from    her;    but    he    stayed  only   a  few   days. 


THE  FATE  OF  D'ACHfi  249 

Mme.  Amfrye  also  assisted  him.  This  woman  who 
never  went  out  except  to  church,  and  was  seen  every 
morning  with  eyes  downcast,  walking  to  Saint-Patrice 
with  her  servant  carrying  her  prayer  book,  was  one 
of  the  fiercest  royalists  of  the  region.  She  looked 
after  the  emigrants'  funds  and  took  charge  of  their 
correspondence.  Once  a  week  a  priest  rang  her 
door-bell ;  it  was  the  Abbe  Nicholas,  cure  of  Vier- 
ville,  a  little  fishing  village.  The  Abbe,  whose  char- 
ity was  proverbial,  and  accounted  for  his  visits  to 
Mme.  Amfrye,  was  in  reality  a  second  David  Tln- 
trepide ;  mass  said  and  his  beads  told,  he  got  into  a 
boat  and  went  alone  to  the  islands  of  Saint-Marcouf, 
where  an  exchange  of  letters  was  made  with  the 
English  emissaries,  the  good  priest  bringing  his  packet 
back  to  Bayeux  under  his  soutane. 

D'Ache  could  also  hide  with  Mademoiselle  Dumes- 
nil,  or  Mile.  Duquesnay  de  Montfiquet,  to  both  of 
whom  he  had  been  presented  by  Mme.  de  Vaubadon, 
an  ardent  royalist  who  had  rendered  signal  service  to 
the  party  during  the  worst  days  of  the  Terror.  She 
was  mentioned  among  the  Normans  who  had  shown 
most  intelligent  and  devoted  zeal  for  the  cause. 

Born  de  Mesnildot,  niece  of  Tourville,  she  had 
married  shortly  before  the  Revolution  M.  le  Tellier 
de  Vaubadon,  son  of  a  member  of  the  Rouen  Parlia- 
ment, a  handsome  man,  amiable,  loyal,  elegant,  and 
most  charmingly  sociable.  She  was  medium-sized, 
not  very  pretty,  but  attractive,  with  a  very  white  skin, 
tawny  hair,  and  graceful  carriage.  Two  sons  were 
born  of  this  union,  and  on  the  outbreak  of  the  Revo- 


250    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

lution  M.  de  Vaubadon  emigrated.  After  several 
months  of  retreat  in  the  Chateau  of  Vaubadon,  the 
young  woman  tired  of  her  grass-widowhood,  which 
seemed  as  if  it  would  be  eternal,  and  returned  to 
Bayeux  where  she  had  numerous  relations.  The 
Terror  was  over;  life  was  reawakening,  and  the 
gloomy  town  gave  itself  up  to  it  gladly.  "  Never 
were  balls,  suppers,  and  concerts  more  numerous, 
animated  and  brilliant  in  Bayeux  than  at  this  period." 
Mme.  de  Vaubadon's  success  was  marked.  When 
some  of  her  papers  were  seized  in  the  year  IX  the 
following  note  from  an  adorer  was  found ;  "  All  the 
men  who  have  had  the  misfortune  to  see  you  have 
been  mortally  wounded.  I  therefore  implore  you  not 
to  stay  long  in  this  town,  not  to  leave  your  apartment 
but  at  dusk,  and  veiled.  We  hope  to  cure  our  in- 
valids by  cold  baths  and  refreshing  drinks;  but  be 
gracious  enough  not  to  make  incurables." 

So  that  her  children  should  not  be  deprived  of  their 
father's  fortune,  which  the  nation  could  sequestrate 
as  the  property  of  an  emigre^  Mme.  de  Vaubadon,  like 
many  other  royalists,  had  sued  for  a  divorce.  All 
those  who  had  had  recourse  to  this  extremity  had 
asked  for  an  annulment  of  the  decree  as  soon  as  their 
husbands  could  return  to  France,  and  had  resumed 
conjugal  relations.  But  Mme.  de  Vaubadon  did  not 
consider  her  divorce  a  mere  formality ;  she  intended 
to  remain  free,  and  even  brought  suit  against  her  hus- 
band for  the  settlement  of  her  property.  This  act, 
which  was  severely  criticised  by  the  aristocracy  of 
Bayeux,  alienated  many  of  her  friends  and  placed  her 


THE  FATE  OF  D'ACHfi  251 

somewhat  on  the  outskirts  of  society.  From  that 
time  lovers  were  attributed  to  her,  and  it  is  certain 
that  her  conduct  became  more  h'ght.  She  scarcely 
concealed  her  liaison  with  Guerin  de  Bruslart,  the 
leader  of  the  Norman  Chouans,  the  successor  of 
Frotte,  and  a  true  type  of  the  romantic  brigand,  who 
managed  to  live  for  ten  years  in  Normandy  and  even 
in  Paris,  without  falling  into  one  of  the  thousand 
traps  set  for  him  by  Fouche.  Bruslart  arrived  at  his 
mistress's  house  at  night,  his  belt  bristling  with  pistols 
and  poniards,  and  "always  ready  for  a  desperate 
hand-to-hand  fight." 

Together  with  this  swaggerer  Mme.  de  Vaubadon 
received  a  certain  Ollendon,  a  Chouan  of  doubtful 
reputation,  who  was  said  to  have  gone  over  to  the 
police  through  need  of  money.  Mme.  de  Vaubadon, 
since  her  divorce,  had  herself  been  in  a  precarious 
position.  She  had  dissipated  her  own  fortune,  which 
had  already  been  greatly  lessened  by  the  Revolution. 
She  was  now  reduced  to  expedients,  and  seeing  closed 
to  her  the  doors  of  many  of  the  houses  in  Bayeux  to 
which  her  presence  had  formerly  given  tone,  she  went 
to  Caen  and  settled  in  the  Rue  Guilbert  nearly  op- 
posite the  Rue  Coupee. 

Whether  it  was  that  Ollendon  had  decided  to  profit 
by  her  relations  with  the  Chouans,  or  that  Fouche  had 
learned  that  she  was  in  need  and  would  not  refuse 
good  pay  for  her  services,  Mme.  de  Vaubadon  was 
induced  to  enter  into  communication  with  the  police. 
The  man  whom  in  1793  Charlotte  Corday  had  im- 
mortally branded  with  a  word,  Senator  Doulcet  de 


252     THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

Pontecoulant,  undertook  to  gain  this  recruit  for  the 
imperial  government. 

If  certain  traditions  are  to  be  trusted,  Pontecoulant, 
who  was  supposed  to  be  one  of  Acquet  de  Ferolles' 
protectors,  had  insinuated  to  Mme.  de  Vaubadon  that 
"  her  intrigues  with  the  royalists  had  long  been  known 
in  high  places,  and  an  order  for  her  arrest  and  that  of 
d*Ache,  who  was  said  to  be  her  lover,  was  about  to 
be  issued."  "  You  understand,"  he  added,  "  that  the 
Emperor  is  as  merciful  as  he  is  powerful,  that  he  has 
a  horror  of  punishment  and  only  wants  to  conciliate, 
but  that  he  must  crush,  at  all  costs,  the  aid  given  to 
England  by  the  agitation  on  the  coasts.  Redeem 
your  past.  You  know  d'Ache's  retreat :  get  him  to 
leave  France ;  his  return  will  be  prevented,  but  the 
certainty  of  his  embarkation  is  wanted,  and  you  will 
be  furnished  with  agents  who  will  be  able  to  testify 
to  it." 

In  this  way  Mme.  de  Vaubadon  would  be  led  to 
the  idea  of  revealing  d'Ache's  retreat,  believing  that 
it  was  only  a  question  of  getting  him  over  to  Eng- 
land; but  facts  give  slight  support  to  this  sugared 
version  of  the  affair.  After  the  particularly  odious 
drama  that  we  are  about  to  relate,  all  who  had  taken 
part  in  it  tried  to  prove  for  themselves  a  moral  alibi, 
and  to  throw  on  subordinates  the  horror  of  a  crime 
that  had  been  long  and  carefully  prepared.  Fouche, 
whom  few  memories  disturbed,  was  haunted  by  this 
one,  and  attributed  to  himself  a  role  as  chivalrous  as 
unexpected.  According  to  him,  d'Ache,  in  extremity, 
had    tried    a    bold    stroke.     This    man,    who,    since 


THE  FATE  OF  D'ACHE  253 

Georges*  death,  had  so  fortunately  escaped  all  the 
spies  of  France,  had  of  his  own  will  suddenly  pre- 
sented himself  before  the  Minister  of  Police,  to  con- 
vert him  to  royalist  doctrines  !  Fouche  had  shown  a 
loyalty  that  equalled  his  visitor's  boldness.  "  I  do 
not  wish,"  he  said,  "  to  take  advantage  of  your  bold- 
ness and  have  you'  arrested  hie  et  nunc ;  I  give  you 
three  days  to  get  out  of  France ;  during  this  time 
I  will  ignore  you  completely ;  on  the  fourth  day  I 
will  set  my  men  on  you,  and  if  you  are  taken  you 
must  bear  the  consequences." 

This  is  honourable,  but  without  doubt  false.  Be- 
sides the  improbability  of  this  conspirator  offering 
himself  without  reason  to  the  man  who  had  hunted 
him  so  long,  it  is  difficult  to  imagine  that  such  a 
meeting  could  have  taken  place  without  any  mention 
of  it  being  made  in  the  correspondence  in  the  case. 
None  of  the  letters  exchanged  between  the  Minister 
of  Police  and  the  prefects  makes  any  allusion  to  this 
visit ;  it  seems  to  accord  so  little  with  the  character 
of  either  that  it  must  be  relegated  to  the  ranks  of  the 
legends  with  which  Fouche  sought  to  hide  his  per- 
fidies. It  is  certain  that  a  snare  was  laid  for  d'Ache, 
that  Mme.  de  Vaubadon  was  the  direct  instrument, 
that  Pontecoulant  acted  as  intermediary  between  the 
minister  and  the  woman  ;  but  the  inventor  of  the 
stratagem  is  unknown.  A  simple  recital  of  the  facts 
will  show  that  all  three  of  those  named  are  worthy  to 
have  combined  in  it. 

Public  rumour  asserts  that  Mme.  de  Vaubadon  had 
been   d'Ache's    mistress,  but   she  did  not  now  know 


254    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

where  he  was  hidden.  In  the  latter  part  of  August, 
1809,  she  went  to  Bayeux  to  find  out  from  her  friend 
Mile.  Duquesnay  de  Montfiquet  if  d'Ache  was  in  the 
neighbourhood,  and  if  so,  with  whom.  Mile,  de 
Montfiquet,  knowing  Mme.  de  Vaubadon  to  be  one 
of  the  outlaw's  most  intimate  friends,  told  her  that 
he  had  been  living  in  the  town  for  a  long  time,  and 
that  she  went  to  see  him  every  week.  The  matter 
ended  there,  and  after  paying  some  visits,  Mme.  de 
Vaubadon  returned  by  coach  the  same  evening  to 
Caen. 

It  became  known  later  that  she  had  a  long  inter- 
view with  Pontecoulant  the  next  day,  during  which  it 
was  agreed  that  she  should  deliver  up  d'Ache,  in  re- 
turn for  which  Fouche  would  pay  her  debts  and  give 
her  a  pension.  But  she  attached  a  strange  condition 
to  the  bargain  ;  she  refused  "  to  act  with  the  authori- 
ties, and  only  undertook  to  keep  her  promise  if  they 
put  at  her  disposal,  while  leaving  her  completely  in- 
dependent, a  non-commissioned  officer  of  gendar- 
merie, whom  she  was  to  choose  herself,  and  who 
would  blindly  obey  her  orders,  without  having  to  re- 
port to  his  chiefs."  Perhaps  the  unfortunate  woman 
hoped  to  retain  d' Ache's  life  in  her  keeping,  and  save 
him  by  some  subterfuge,  but  she  had  to  deal  with 
Pontecoulant,  Real  and  Fouche,  three  experienced 
players  whom  it  was  difficult  to  deceive.  They  ac- 
cepted her  conditions,  only  desiring  to  get  hold  of 
d'Ache,  and  determined  to  do  away  with  him  as  soon 
as  they  should  know  where  to  catch  him. 

On  Thursday,  September  5th,  Mme.  de  Vaubadon 


THE  FATE  OF  D'ACHfi  255 

reappeared  in  Bayeux,  and  went  to  Mile.  Duquesnay 
de  Montfiquet  to  tell  her  of  the  imminent  danger 
d'Ache  was  in,  and  to  beg  her  to  ensure  his  safety 
by  putting  her  in  communication  with  him.  We 
now  follow  the  story  of  a  friend  of  Mme.  de  Vau- 
badon's  family  who  tried  to  prove  her  innocent,  if  not 
of  treachery,  at  least  of  the  crime  that  was  the  result 
of  it.  Mile,  de  Montfiquet  had  great  confidence  in 
her  friend's  loyalty,  but  not  in  her  discretion,  and  ob- 
stinately refused  to  take  Mme.  de  Vaubadon  to 
d*Ache.  The  former,  fearing  that  action  would  be 
taken  without  her,  returned  to  the  charge,  but  en- 
countered a  firm  determination  to  be  silent  that  ren- 
dered her  insistence  fruitless.  In  despair  at  the  pos- 
sibility of  having  aroused  suspicions  that  might  lead 
to  the  disappearance  of  d'Ache,  she  resolved  not  to 
leave  the  place. 

"  I  do  not  wish  to  be  seen  in  Bayeux,"  she  said  to 
her  friend,  "  I  am  going  to  sleep  here." 

"  But  I  have  only  one  bed." 

"  I  will  share  it  with  you." 

During  the  night,  as  the  two  women's  thoughts 
kept  them  from  sleeping,  Mme.  de  Vaubadon  changed 
her  tactics. 

"  You  have  no  means  of  saving  him,"  she  hinted, 
"  whilst  all  my  plans  are  laid.  I  have  at  my  disposal 
a  boat  that  for  eight  or  nine  hundred  francs  will  take 
him  to  England  ;  I  have  some  one  to  take  him  to  the 
coast,  and  two  sailors  to  man  the  boat.  If  you  will 
not  tell  me  his  retreat,  at  least  make  a  rendezvous 
where   my  guide  can   meet  him.     If  you   refuse  he 


256    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

may  be  arrested  to-morrow,  tried,  and  shot,  and  the 
responsibility  for  his  death  will  fall  on  you." 

Mile,  de  Montfiquet  gave  up;  she  promised  to 
persuade  d'Ache  to  go  to  England.  It  was  now  Fri- 
day, September  6th.  It  was  settled  that  at  ten  o'clock 
in  the  evening  of  the  following  day  she  herself  should 
take  him  to  the  village  of  Saint-Vigor-le-Grand,  at 
the  gates  of  Bayeux.  She  would  advance  alone  to 
meet  the  guide  sent  by  Mme.  de  Vaubadon  ;  the  men 
would  say  "  Samson,'*  to  which  Mile,  de  Montfiquet 
would  answer  "  Felix,"  and  only  after  the  exchange 
of  these  words  would  she  call  d'Ache,  hidden  at  a 
distance. 

Mme.  de  Vaubadon  returned  to  Caen,  arriving  at 
home  before  midday.  Most  of  the  frequenters  of  her 
salon  at  this  period  were  aspirants  for  her  favours, 
and  among  whom  was  a  young  man  of  excellent 
family,  M.  Alfred  de  Formigny,  very  much  in  love, 
and  consequently  very  jealous  of  Ollendon,  who  was 
then  supposed  to  be  the  favoured  lover.  In  the  even- 
ing of  this  day,  M.  de  Formigny  went  to  Mme.  de 
Vaubadon's.  He  was  told  that  she  was  not  at  home, 
but  as  he  saw  a  light  on  the  ground  floor,  and  thought 
he  could  distinguish  the  silhouette  of  a  man  against 
the  curtains,  he  watched  the  house  and  ascertained 
that  its  mistress  was  having  an  animated  conversation 
with  a  visitor  whose  back  only  could  be  seen,  and 
whom  he  believed  to  be  his  rival.  Wishing  to  make 
sure  of  it,  and  determined  to  have  an  explanation,  he 
stood  sentinel  before  the  door  of  the  house.  "  Soon 
a  man  wrapped  in  a  cloak  came  out,  who,  seeing  that 


THE  FATE  OF  D'ACHE  257 

he  was  watched,  pulled  the  folds  of  it  up  to  his  eyes. 
M.  de  Formigny,  certain  that  it  was  Ollendon,  threw 
himself  on  the  man,  and  forced  off  the  cloak."  But 
he  felt  very  sheepish  when  he  found  himself  face  to 
face  with  Foison,  quartermaster  of  gendarmerie,  who, 
not  less  annoyed,  growled  out  a  few  oaths,  and  hastily 
made  off.  The  same  evening  M.  de  Formigny  told 
his  adventure  to  some  of  his  friends,  but  his  indiscre- 
tion had  no  consequences,  it  seemed,  Mme.  de  Vau- 
badon's  reputation  being  so  much  impaired  that  a 
new  scandal  passed  unnoticed. 

Meanwhile  Mile,  de  Montfiquet  had  kept  her 
promise.  As  soon  as  her  friend  left  her,  she  went  to 
Mile.  Dumesnirs,  where  d'Ache  had  lived  for  the  last 
six  weeks,  and  told  him  of  Mme.  de  Vaubadon's 
proposition.  The  offer  was  so  tempting,  it  seemed 
so  truly  inspired  by  the  most  zealous  and  thoughtful 
affection,  and  came  from  so  trusted  a  friend,  that  he 
did  not  hesitate  to  accept.  It  appears,  however,  that 
he  was  not  in  much  danger  in  Bayeux,  and  took  little 
pains  to  conceal  himself,  for  on  Saturday  morning  he 
piously  took  the  sacrament  at  the  church  of  Saint- 
Patrice,  then  returned  to  Mile.  Dumesnil's  and  ar- 
ranged some  papers.  As  soon  as  it  was  quite  dark 
that  evening  Mile,  de  Montfiquet  came  to  fetch  him, 
and  found  him  ready  to  start.  He  was  dressed  in  a 
hunting  jacket  of  blue  cloth,  trousers  of  ribbed  green 
velvet  and  a  waistcoat  of  yellow  pique.  He  put  two 
loaded  English  pistols  in  the  pockets  of  his  jacket  and 
carried  a  sword-cane.  Mile,  de  Montfiquet  gave  him 
a   little    book   of  "  Pensees  Chretiennes,"  in  which 


258     THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

she  had  written  her  name ;  then,  accompanied  by  her 
servant,  she  led  him  across  the  suburbs  to  Saint-Vigor- 
le-Grand.  She  found  Mme.  de  Vaubadon's  guide  at 
the  rendezvous  before  the  church  door;  it  vi^as Foison, 
whom  she  recognised.  The  passwords  exchanged, 
d*Ache  came  forward,  kissed  Mile,  de  Montfiquet's 
hand,  bade  her  adieu,  and  started  with  the  gendarme. 
The  anxious  old  lady  followed  him  several  steps  at  a 
distance,  and  saw  standing  at  the  end  of  the  wall  of 
the  old  priory  of  Saint-Vigor,  two  men  in  citizen's 
dress,  who  joined  the  travellers.  All  four  took  the 
cross  road  that  led  by  the  farm  of  Caugy  to  Villiers- 
le-Sec.  They  wished,  by  crossing  the  Seulc  at  Re- 
viers,  to  get  to  the  coast  at  Luc-sur-Mer,  seven 
leagues  from  Bayeux,  where  the  embarkation  was  to 
take  place. 

When  d'Ache  and  his  companions  left  Bayeux, 
Luc-sur-Mer  was  in  a  state  of  excitement.  The 
next  day,  Sunday,  lots  were  to  be  drawn  for  the  Na- 
tional Guard,  and  the  young  people  of  the  village, 
knowing  that  this  fete  was  only  "  conscription  in  dis- 
guise," had  threatened  to  prevent  the  ceremony,  to 
surround  the  Mairie  and  burn  the  registers  and  the 
recruiting  papers.  What  contributed  to  the  general 
uneasiness  was  the  fact  that  four  men  who  were 
known  to  be  gendarmes  in  disguise  had  been  hovering 
about,  chiefly  on  the  beach  ;  they  had  had  the  audacity 
to  arrest  two  gunners,  coast-guards  in  uniform  and 
on  duty,  and  demand  their  papers.  A  serious  brawl 
had   ensued.      At    night   the    same    men  "  suddenly 


THE  FATE  OF  D'ACHE  259 

thrust  a  dark  lantern  in  the  face  of  every  one  they 
met." 

M.  Boullee,  the  Mayor  of  Luc,  lived  at  the  hamlet 
of  Notre-Dame-de-la-Delivrande,  some  distance  from 
the  town,  and  in  much  alarm  at  the  disturbances 
watched  with  his  servants  through  part  of  the  night 
of  the  7th-8th.  At  one  o'clock  in  the  morning, 
while  he  was  with  them  in  a  room  on  the  ground 
floor,  a  shot  was  heard  outside  and  a  ball  struck  the 
window  frame.  They  rushed  to  the  door,  and  in  the 
darkness  saw  a  man  running  away ;  the  cartouche 
was  still  burning  in  the  courtyard.  M.  Boullee  im- 
mediately sent  to  the  coast-guards  to  inform  them  of 
the  fact,  and  to  ask  for  a  reinforcement  of  two  men  who 
did  not  arrive  till  near  four  o'clock.  Having  passed 
the  night  patrolling  at  some  distance  from  La  Deliv- 
rande,  they  had  not  heard  the  shot  that  had  alarmed 
the  mayor,  but  towards  half-past  three  had  heard 
firing  and  a  loud  "  Help,  help  !  "  in  the  direction  of 
the  junction  of  the  road  from  Bayeux  with  that  lead- 
ing to  the  sea. 

It  was  now  dawn  and  M.  Boullee,  reassured  by  the 
presence  of  the  two  gunners,  resolved  to  go  out  and 
explore  the  neighbourhood.  On  the  road  to  Luc, 
about  five  hundred  yards  from  his  house,  a  peasant 
hailed  him,  and  showed  him,  behind  a  hayrick  almost 
on  the  edge  of  the  road,  the  body  of  a  man.  The 
face  had  received  so  many  blows  as  to  be  almost 
unrecognisable ;  the  left  eye  was  coming  out  of  the 
socket;  the  hair  was  black,  but  very  grey  on  the 
temples,  and  the  beard  thin  and  short.     The  man  lay 


26o    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

on  his  back,  with  a  loaded  pistol  on  each  side,  about 
two  feet  from  the  body ;  the  blade  and  sheath  of  a 
sword-cane  had  rolled  a  little  way  off,  and  near  them 
was  the  broken  butt-end  of  a  double-barrelled  gun. 
On  raising  the  corpse  to  search  the  pockets,  the  hands 
were  found  to  be  strongly  tied  behind  the  back.  No 
papers  were  found  that  could  give  any  clue  to  his 
identity,  but  only  a  watch,  thirty  francs  in  silver,  and 
a  little  book  on  the  first  page  of  which  was  written 
the  name  "  Duquesnay  de  Montfiquet." 

The  growing  daylight  now  made  an  investigation 
possible.  Traces  of  blood  were  found  on  the  road  to 
Luc  from  the  place  where  the  body  lay,  to  its  junc- 
tion with  the  road  to  Bayeux,  a  distance  of  about  two 
hundred  yards.  It  was  evident  that  the  murder  had 
been  committed  at  the  spot  where  the  two  roads  met, 
and  that  the  assassins  had  carried  the  corpse  to  the 
fields  and  behind  the  hayrick  to  retard  discovery  of  the 
crime.  The  disguised  gendarmes  whose  presence 
had  so  disturbed  the  townsfolk  had  disappeared.  A 
horse  struck  by  a  ball  was  lying  in  a  ditch.  It  was 
raised,  and  though  losing  a  great  deal  of  blood, 
walked  as  far  as  the  village  of  Mathieu,  on  the  road 
to  Caen,  where  it  was  stabled. 

These  facts  having  been  ascertained,  M.  Boullee's 
servants  and  the  peasants  whom  curiosity  had  at- 
tracted to  the  spot,  escorted  the  dead  body,  which 
had  been  put  on  a  wheelbarrow,  to  La  Delivrande. 
It  was  laid  in  a  barn  near  the  celebrated  chapel  of 
pilgrimages,  and  there  the  autopsy  took  place  at  five 
in  the  afternoon.     It  was  found  that  "  death  was  due 


THE  FATE  OF  D*ACH£  261 

to  a  wound  made  by  the  blade  of  the  sword-cane; 
the  weapon,  furiously  turned  in  the  body,  had  lacer- 
ated the  intestines.'*  Three  balls  had,  besides,  struck 
the  victim,  and  five  buckshot  had  hit  him  full  in  the 
face  and  broken  several  teeth  ;  of  two  balls  fired  close 
to  the  body,  one  had  pierced  the  chest  above  the  left 
breast,  and  the  other  had  broken  the  left  thigh,  and 
one  of  the  murderers  had  struck  the  face  so  violently 
that  his  gun  had  broken  against  the  skull. 

The  mayor  had  been  occupied  with  the  drawing  of 
lots  all  day,  and  only  found  time  to  write  and  inform 
the  prefect  of  the  murder  when  the  doctors  had  com- 
pleted their  task.  He  was  in  great  perplexity,  for  the 
villagers  unanimously  accused  the  gendarmes  of  the 
mysterious  crime.  It  was  said  that  at  dawn  that 
morning  the  quartermaster  Foison  and  four  of  his 
men  had  gone  into  an  inn  at  Mathieu,  one  of  them 
carrying  a  gun  with  the  butt-end  broken.  While 
breakfasting,  these  "  gentlemen,"  not  seeing  a  child 
lying  in  a  closed  bed,  had  taken  from  a  tin  box  some 
"  yellow  coins "  which  they  divided,  and  the  infer- 
ence drawn  was  that  the  gendarmes  had  plundered  a 
traveller  whom  they  knew  to  be  well-supplied,  and 
sure  of  impunity  since  they  could  always  plead  a  case 
of  rebellion,  had  got  rid  of  him  by  murder.  This  was 
the  sense  of  the  letter  sent  to  CafFarelli  by  the  Mayor 
of  Luc  on  the  evening  of  the  8th.  The  next  morn- 
ing Foison  appeared  at  La  Delivrande  to  draw  up  the 
report.  When  Boullee  asked  him  a  few  questions 
about  the  murder,  he  answered  in  so  arrogant  and 
menacing  a  tone  as  to  make  any  enquiry  impossible. 


262     THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

Putting  on  a  bold  face,  he  admitted  that  he  had  been 
present  at  the  scene  of  the  crime.  He  said  that 
while  he  was  patrolling  the  road  to  Luc  with  four  of 
his  men,  two  individuals  appeared  whom  he  asked  for 
their  papers.  One  of  them  immediately  fled,  and  the 
other  discharged  his  pistols ;  the  gendarmes  seized 
him,  and  in  spite  of  his  desperate  resistance  succeeded 
in  bringing  him  down.  He  stayed  dead  on  the 
ground,  "  having  been  struck  several  times  during  the 
struggle." 

"  But  his  pistols  were  still  loaded,"  said  some  one. 

Foison  made  no  reply. 

"  But  his  hands  were  tied,'*  said  the  mayor. 

Foisin  tried  to  deny  it. 

"  Here  are  the  bands,"  said  Boullee,  drawing  from 
his  pocket  the  ribbon  taken  from  the  dead  man's 
hands.  And  as  Captain  Mancel,  who  presided  at  the 
interview,  remarked  that  those  were  indeed  the  bands 
used  by  gendarmes,  Foison  left  the  room  with  more 
threats,  swearing  that  he  owed  an  account  to  no  one. 

The  news  of  the  crime  had  spread  with  surprising 
rapidity,  and  indignation  was  great  wherever  it  was 
heard.  In  writing  to  Real,  CafFarelli  echoed  public 
feeling : 

"  How  did  it  happen  that  four  gendarmes  were  un- 
able to  seize  a  man  who  had  struggled  for  a  long 
time  ?  How  came  it  that  he  was,  in  a  way,  muti- 
lated ?  Why,  after  having  killed  this  man,  did  they 
leave  him  there,  without  troubling  to  comply  with 
any  of  the  necessary  formalities  ?  Ask  these  ques- 
tions, M.  le  Comte  ;  the   public   is  asking  them  and 


THE  FATE  OF  D'ACH£  263 

finds  no  answer.  What  is  the  reply,  if,  moreover,  as 
is  said,  the  person  was  seized,  his  hands  tightly  tied 
behind  his  back,  and  then  shot  ?  What  are  the  ter- 
rible consequences  to  be  expected  from  these  facts  if 
they  are  true  ?  How  will  the  gendarmes  be  able  to 
fulfil  their  duties  without  fear  of  being  treated  as  as- 
sassins or  wild  beasts  ?  " 

It  must  be  mentioned  that  as  soon  as  the  crime 
was  committed,  Foison  had  gone  to  Caen  and  given 
Pontecoulant  the  papers  found  on  d'Ache,  which  con- 
tained information  as  to  the  political  and  military  sit- 
uation on  the  coast  of  Normandy,  and  on  the  pos- 
sibility of  a  disembarkation.  Pontecoulant  had  im- 
mediately posted  ofF,  and  on  the  morning  of  the  nth 
told  Fouche  verbally  of  the  manner  in  which  Foison 
and  Mme.  de  Vaubadon  had  acquitted  themselves  of 
their  mission.  It  remained  to  be  seen  how  the  public 
would  take  things,  and  CafFarelli's  letter  presaged  no 
good ;  what  would  it  be  when  it  became  known  that 
the  gendarme  assassins  had  acted  with  the  authorisa- 
tion of  the  government  ?  Happily,  a  confusion  arose 
that  retarded  the  discovery  of  the  truth.  In  the  hope 
of  determining  the  dead  man's  identity,  the  Mayor  of 
Luc  had  exposed  the  body  to  view,  and  many  had 
come  to  see  it,  including  some  people  from  Caen. 
Four  of  these  had  unanimously  recognised  the  corpse 
as  that  of  a  clock-maker  of  Paris,  named  Morin- 
Cochu,  well  known  at  the  fairs  of  Lower  Normandy. 
Fouche  allowed  the  public  to  follow  this  false  trail, 
and  it  was  wonderful  to  see  his  lieutenants,  Des- 
marets,   Veyrat,    Real    himself,   looking    for    Morin- 


264    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

Cochu  all  over  Paris  as  if  they  were  ignorant  of  the 
personality  of  their  victim.  And  when  Morin-Cochu 
was  found  alive  and  well  in  his  shop  in  the  Rue 
Saint-Denis,  which  he  had  not  left  for  four  years, 
they  began  just  as  zealously  to  look  for  his  agent 
Festau,  who  might  well  be  the  murdered  man. 

CafFarelli,  however,  was  not  to  be  caught  in  this 
clumsy  trap.  He  knew  how  matters  stood  now,  and 
showed  his  indignation.  He  wrote  very  courageously 
to  Real :  "  You  will  doubtless  ask  me,  M.  le  Comte, 
why  I  have  not  tried  to  show  up  the  truth  ?  My 
answer  is  simple  :  it  is  publicly  rumoured  that  the  ex- 
pedition of  the  gendarmes   was  ordered  by  M.   the 

Senator  Comte  de  P ,  to  whom   were  given  the 

papers  found  on  the  murdered  man,  and  who  has  gone 
to  Paris,  no  doubt  to  transmit  them  to  his  Excellency 
the  Minister  of  Police.  Ought  I  not  to  respect  the 
secret  of  the  authorities  ?  " 

And  all  that  had  occurred  in  his  department  for  the 
two  last  years  that  it  had  not  been  considered  advis- 
able to  tell  him  of,  all  the  irregularities  that  in  his  de- 
sire for  peace  he  had  thought  he  should  shut  his  eyes 
to,  all  the  affronts  that  he  had  patiently  endured, 
came  back  to  his  mind.  He  felt  his  heart  swell  with 
disgust  at  cowardly  acts,  dishonourable  tools,  and 
odious  snares,  and  nobly  explained  his  feelings : 

"  Certainly  I  am  not  jealous  of  executing  severe 
measures  and  T  should  like  never  to  have  any  of  that 
kind  to  enforce.  But  I  owe  it  to  myself  as  well  as 
to  the  dignity  of  my  office  not  to  remain  prefect  in 
name  only,  and  if  any  motives  whatever  can  destroy 


THE  FATE  OF  D'ACHfi  265 

confidence  in  me  to  this  point  on  important  matters 
I  must  simply  be  told  of  it  and  I  shall  know  how  to 
resign  without  murmuring.  It  is  not  permissible  to 
treat  a  man  whose  honesty  and  zeal  cannot  be  mis- 
taken, in  the  manner  in  which  I  have  been  treated 
for  some  time.  I  cannot  conceal  from  you,  M.  le 
Comte,  that  I  am  keenly  wounded  at  the  measures 
that  have  been  taken  towards  me.  It  has  been 
thought  better  to  put  faith  in  people  of  tarnished  and 
despicable  reputation,  the  terror  of  families,  than  in  a 
man  who  has  only  sought  the  good  of  the  country  he 
represented,  and  known  no  other  ambition  than  that 
of  acting  wisely." 

And  this  letter,  so  astonishing  from  the  pen  of  an 
imperial  prefect,  was  a  sort  of  revenge  for  all  the  poor 
people  for  whom  the  police  had  laid  such  odious 
traps  ;  it  would  remind  Fouche  of  all  the  Licquets 
and  Foisons  who  in  the  exercise  of  justice  found 
matter  for  repugnant  comedies.  It  was  surprising 
that  Licquet  had  had  no  hand  in  the  affair  of  La  De- 
li vrande.  Had  he  breathed  it  to  Real  ?  It  is  pos- 
sible, though  there  is  no  indication  of  his  interference, 
albeit  his  manner  is  recognised  in  the  scenario  of  the 
snare  to  which  d'Ache  fell  a  victim,  and  in  the  fact 
that  he  appeared  at  the  end,  coming  from  Rouen 
with  his  secretary  Dupont,  and  the  husband  of  the 
woman  Levasseur  who  was  said  to  have  been  d' Ache's 
mistress. 

On  the  morning  of  September  23d,  a  meeting  took 
place  at  seven  o'clock  at  the  Mayor  of  Luc's  house. 
The  doctors  who  had  held  the  autopsy  were  there. 


266    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

Captain  Mancel  and  Foison,  who  was  in  great  agita- 
tion, although  he  tried  to  hide  it,  at  having  to  assist  at 
the  exhumation  of  his  victim.  They  started  for  the 
cemetery,  and  the  grave-digger  did  his  work.  After 
fifteen  minutes  the  shovel  struck  the  board  that  cov- 
ered d'Ache's  body,  and  soon  after  the  corpse  was 
seen.  The  beard  had  grown  thick  and  strong. 
Foison  gazed  at  it.  It  was  indeed  the  man  with 
whom  he  had  travelled  a  whole  night,  chatting 
amiably  while  each  step  brought  him  nearer  to  the 
assassins  who  were  waiting  for  him.  Licquet  moved 
about  with  complete  self-control,  talking  of  the  time 
when  he  had  known  the  man  who  lay  there,  his 
face  swollen  but  severe,  his  nose  thin  as  an  eagle's 
beak,  his  lips  tightened.  Suddenly  the  detective  re- 
membered a  sign  that  he  had  formerly  noted,  and  or- 
dered the  dead  man's  boots  to  be  removed.  All  pres- 
ent could  then  see  that  d'Ache's  "  toe-nails  were  so 
grown  over  into  his  flesh  that  he  walked  on  them." 
Foison  also  saw,  and  wishing  to  brave  this  corpse, 
more  terrifying  for  him  than  for  any  one  else,  he 
stooped  and  opened  the  dead  lips  with  the  end  of  his 
cane.  A  wave  of  fetid  air  struck  the  assassin  full 
in  the  face,  and  he  fell  backward  with  a  cry  of 
fear. 

This  incident  terminated  the  enquiry;  the  body 
was  returned  to  the  earth,  and  those  who  had  been 
present  at  the  exhumation  started  for  La  Delivrande. 
Foison  walked  alone  behind  the  others ;  no  one  spoke 
to  him,  and  when  they  arrived  at  the  mayor's,  where 
all    had    been   invited   to   dine,  he   remained  on   the 


THE  FATE  OF  D*ACHE  267 

threshold  which  he  dared  not  cross,  knowing  that  for 
the  rest  of  his  life  he  would  never  again  enter  the 
house  of  an  honest  man. 

The  same  evening  at  Caen,  where  everything  was 
known,  although  Fouche  was  still  looking  for  Morin- 
Cochu,  the  vengeance  of  the  corpse  annihilating 
Foison  was  the  topic  of  all  conversations.  There 
was  a  certain  gaiety  in  the  town,  that  was  proud  of 
its  prefect's  attitude.  When  the  curtain  went  up  at 
the  theatre,  while  all  the  young  "  swells  "  were  in 
the  orchestra  talking  of  the  event  that  was  agitating 
"  society,"  they  saw  a  blonde  woman  with  a  red  scarf 
on  her  shoulders  in  one  of  the  boxes.  The  first  one 
that  saw  her  could  not  believe  his  eyes  :  it  was  Mme. 
de  Vaubadon !  The  name  was  at  first  whispered, 
then  a  murmur  went  round  that  at  last  broke  into  an 
uproar.  The  whole  theatre  rose  trembling,  and  with 
raised  fists  cried  :  "  Down  with  the  murderess  !  She 
is  the  woman  with  the  red  shawl ;  it  is  stained  with 
d'Ache's  blood.     Death  to  her !  " 

The  unhappy  woman  tried  to  put  on  a  bold  face, 
and  remained  calm  ;  it  is  supposed  that  Pontecoulant 
was  in  the  theatre,  and  perhaps  she  hoped  that  he,  at 
least,  would  champion  her.  But  when  she  under- 
stood that  in  that  crowd,  among  whom  many  perhaps 
had  loved  her,  no  one  now  would  defend  her,  she  rose 
and  left  her  box,  while  some  of  the  most  excited 
hustled  into  the  corridor  to  hoot  her  in  passing.  She 
at  last  escaped  and  got  to  her  house  in  the  Rue  Guil- 
bert,  and  the  next  day  she  left  Caen  forever. 

Less  culpable  certainly,  and  now  pitied  by  all  to 


268     THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

whom  d'Ache's  death  recalled  the  affair  of  Quesnay, 
Mme.  Acquet  was  spending  her  last  days  in  the  con- 
ciergerie  at  Rouen.  After  the  petition  for  a  reprieve 
on  account  of  her  pregnancy,  and  the  visit  of  two 
doctors,  who  said  they  could  not  admit  the  truth  of 
her  plea,  Ducolombier  used  all  his  efforts  to  obtain 
grace  from  the  Emperor.  As  soon  as  the  sentence 
was  pronounced  he  had  hurried  to  Paris  in  quest  of 
means  of  approaching  his  Majesty.  His  relative, 
Mme.  de  Saint-Leonard,  wife  of  the  Mayor  of  Fa- 
laise,  joined  him  there,  and  got  her  relatives  in  official 
circles  to  interest  themselves.  But  the  Emperor  was 
then  living  in  a  state  of  continual  agitation ;  Laeken, 
Mayence  and  Cassel  were  as  familiar  stopping-places 
as  Saint-Cloud  and  Fontainebleau,  and  even  if  a  few 
minutes'  audience  could  be  obtained,  what  hope  was 
there  of  fixing  his  attention  on  the  life  of  an  insignifi- 
cant woman  ?  Chauveau-Lagarde  advised  the  inter- 
vention of  Mme.  Acquet's  three  girls,  the  eldest  now 
twelve,  and  the  youngest  not  eight  years  old.  Mourn- 
ing garments  were  hastily  bought  for  them,  and  they 
were  sent  to  Paris  on  January  24th,  with  a  Mile.  Bodi- 
not.  Every  day  they  pursued  the  Emperor's  carriage 
through  the  town,  as  he  went  to  visit  the  manufac- 
tories. Timoleon,  Mme.  de  Saint-Leonard,  and 
Mile,  de  Seran  took  turns  with  the  children ;  they 
went  to  Malmaison,  to  Versailles,  to  Meudon.  At 
last,  on  March  2d,  at  Sevres,  one  of  the  children  suc- 
ceeded in  getting  to  the  door  of  the  imperial  carriage, 
and  put  a  petition  into  the  hands  of  an  officer,  but  it 
probably  never  reached  the  Emperor,  for  this  step  that 


THE  FATE  OF  D'ACHfi  269 

had  cost  so  much  money  and  trouble  remained  inef- 
fectual. 

There  are  among  Mme.  de  Combray's  papers  more 
than  ten  drafts  of  petitions  addressed  to  the  Emper- 
or's brothers,  to  Josephine,  and  even  to  foreign 
princes.  But  each  of  them  had  much  to  ask  for  him- 
self, and  all  were  afraid  to  importune  the  master.  The 
latter  was  now  in  Germany,  cutting  his  way  to 
Vienna,  and  poor  Mme.  Acquet  would  have  had 
slight  place  in  his  thoughts  in  spite  of  the  illusions  of 
her  friends,  had  he  ever  even  heard  her  name.  In 
April  the  little  Acquets  returned  to  Mme.  Dusaussay 
in  Rouen.     She  wrote  to  Timoleon  : 

"  I  am  not  surprised  that  you  were  not  satisfied 
with  the  children  ;  until  now  they  have  only  been  re- 
strained by  fear,  and  the  circumstances  of  the  journey 
to  Paris  brought  them  petting  and  kindness  of  which 
they  have  taken  too  much  advantage.  If  worse 
trouble  comes  to  Mme.  Acquet,  we  will  do  our  best  to 
keep  them  in  ignorance  of  it,  and  it  is  to  be  hoped 
the  same  can  be  done  for  your  mother." 

And  so  all  hope  of  grace  seemed  lost  for  the  poor 
woman,  and  it  would  have  been  very  easy  to  forget 
her  in  prison,  for  who  could  be  specially  interested  in 
her  death  ?  Neither  Fouche,  Real,  the  prefect  nor 
even  Licquet,  who,  once  the  verdict  was  given,  seemed 
to  have  lost  all  animosity  towards  his  victims.  Only 
the  imperial  procurer,  Chapais-Marivaux,  seemed  de- 
termined on  the  execution  of  the  sentence.  He  had 
already  caused  two  consultations  to  be  held  on  the  sub- 
ject of  Mme.  Acquet's  health.     The  specialists  could 


270    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

not  or  would  not  decide  upon  it,  and  this  gave  some 
hope  to  Mme.  de  Combray,  who  from  her  cell  in 
Bicetre  still  presided  over  all  efforts  made  for  her 
daughter,  and  continued  to  hold  a  firm  hand  over  her 
family. 

As  the  Emperor  had  now  entered  Vienna  in  tri- 
umph, the  Marquise  thought  it  a  good  time  to  implore 
once  more  the  conqueror's  pity.  She  sent  for  her  son 
Timoleon  on  June  1st.  She  had  decided  to  send  her 
two  eldest  grandchildren  to  Vienna  with  their  aunt 
Mme.  d'Houel  and  the  faithful  Ducolombier,  who 
offered  to  undertake  the  long  journey.  Chauveau- 
Lagarde  drew  up  a  petition  for  the  children  to  give  to 
Napoleon,  and  they  left  Rouen  about  July  loth,  ar- 
riving in  Vienna  the  fortnight  following  the  battle  of 
Wagram.  Ducolombier  at  once  sought  a  means  of 
seeing  the  Emperor.  Hurried  by  the  Marquise,  who 
allowed  no  discussion  of  the  methods  that  seemed 
good  to  her,  he  had  started  without  recommendations, 
letters  of  introduction  or  promises  of  an  audience,  and 
had  to  wait  for  chance  to  give  him  a  moment's  inter- 
view with  Napoleon.  He  established  himself  with 
Mme.  d'Houel  and  the  children  at  Schcebrunn,  where 
the  imperial  quarters  were,  and  by  dint  of  solicitations 
obtained  the  privilege  of  going  into  the  court  of  the 
chateau  with  other  supplicants. 

The  Emperor  was  away  ;  he  had  wished  to  revisit 
the  scene  of  his  brilliant  victory,  and  during  the 
whole  day  Ducolombier  and  his  companions  waited 
his  return  on  the  porch  of  the  chateau.  Towards 
evening  the  gate   opened,  the  guard   took   up  arms. 


THE  FATE  OF  D'ACHfi  271 

drums  beat  and  the  Emperor  appeared  on  horseback  in 
the  immense  courtyard,  preceded  by  his  guides  and 
his  mameluke,  and  followed  by  a  numerous  staff.  The 
hearts  of  the  poor  little  Acquets  must  have  beaten  fast 
when  they  saw  this  master  of  the  world  from  whom 
they  were  going  to  beg  their  mother's  life.  In  a 
moment  the  Emperor  was  upon  them  ;  Ducolombier 
pushed  them ;  they  fell  on  their  knees. 

Seeing  these  mourning  figures,  Napoleon  thought 
he  had  before  him  the  widow  and  orphans  of  some 
officer  killed  during  the  campaign.  He  raised  the 
children  kindly. 

"  Sire  !     Give  us  back  our  mother  !  "  they  sobbed. 

The  Emperor,  much  surprised,  took  the  petition 
from  Mme.  d'HouePs  hands  and  read  it  through. 
There  were  a  few  moments  of  painful  silence;  he  raised 
his  eyes  to  the  little  girls,  asked  Ducolombier  a  few 
brief  questions,  then  suddenly  starting  on, 

"  I  cannot,"  he  said  drily. 

And  he  disappeared  among  the  groups  humbly  bow- 
ing in  the  hall.  Some  one  who  witnessed  the  scene 
relates  that  the  Emperor  was  very  much  moved  when 
reading  the  petition.  "  He  changed  colour  several 
times,  tears  were  in  his  eyes  and  his  voice  trembled." 
The  Duke  of  Rovigo  asserted  that  pardon  would  be 
granted  ;  the  Emperor's  heart  had  already  pronounced 
it,  but  he  was  very  angry  with  the  minister  of  police, 
who  after  having  made  a  great  fuss  over  this  affair 
and  got  all  the  credit,  left  him  supreme  arbiter  without 
having  given  him  any  information  concerning  it. 

"If  the  case   is   a  worthy  one,"   said   Napoleon, 


272    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

"  why  did  he  not  send  me  word  of  it  ?  and  if  it  is 
not,  why  did  he  give  passports  to  a  family  whom  I 
am  obliged  to  send  away  in  despair  ? " 

The  poor  children  had  indeed  to  return  to  France, 
knowing  that  they  took,  as  it  were,  her  death  sentence 
to  their  mother.  Each  relay  that  brought  them 
nearer  to  her  was  a  step  towards  the  scaffold ;  noth- 
ing could  now  save  the  poor  woman,  and  she  waited 
in  resignation.  Never,  since  Le  Chevalier's  death, 
had  she  lost  the  impassive  manner  that  had  astonished 
the  spectators  in  court.  Whether  solitude  had  altered 
her  ardent  nature,  or  whether  she  looked  on  death  as 
the  only  possible  end  to  her  adventurous  existence, 
she  seemed  indifferent  as  to  her  fate,  and  thought  no 
longer  of  the  future.  Licquet  had  long  abandoned 
her;  he  had  been  "  her  last  friend."  Of  all  the  sur- 
vivors of  the  affair  of  Quesnay  she  was  the  only  one 
left  in  the  conciergerie,  the  others  having  gone  to 
serve  their  terms  in  Bicetre  or  other  fortresses. 

Whilst  it  had  seemed  possible  that  Mme.  Acquet*s 
friends  might  obtain  the  Emperor's  interest  in  her 
case,  she  had  received  great  care  and  attention,  but 
since  the  return  of  her  daughters  from  Vienna  things 
had  changed.  She  had  become  once  more  "the 
woman  Acquet,"  and  the  interest  that  had  been  taken 
in  her  gave  place  to  brutal  indifference.  On  August 
23d  (and  this  date  probably  accords  with  the  return  of 
the  children  and  their  aunt)  Chapais-Marivaux,  in 
haste  to  end  the  affair,  sent  three  health-officers  to  ex- 
amine her,  but  these  good  people,  knowing  the  conse- 
quence of  their  diagnosis,  declared  that  "  the  symp- 


THE  FATE  OF  D'ACH£  273 

toms  made  it  impossible  for  them  to  pronounce  an 
opinion  on  the  state  of  the  prisoner." 

Chapais-Marivaux  took  a  month  to  find  doctors 
who  would  not  allow  pity  to  interfere  with  their  pro- 
fessional duty,  and  on  October  6th  the  prefect  wrote 
to  Real :  "  M.  le  Procureur-General  has  just  had 
the  woman  Acquet  examined  by  four  surgeons,  three 
of  whom  had  not  seen  her  before.  They  have  certi- 
fied that  she  is  not  pregnant,  and  so  she  is  to  be  exe- 
cuted to-day." 

We  know  nothing  of  the  way  in  which  she  pre- 
pared for  death,  nor  of  the  feeling  which  the  news  of 
her  imminent  execution  must  have  occasioned  in  the 
prison ;  but  when  she  was  handed  over  to  the  execu- 
tioner for  the  final  arrangements,  Mme.  Acquet  wrote 
two  or  three  letters  to  beg  that  her  children  might 
never  fall  into  her  husband's  hands.  Her  toilet  was 
then  made  ;  her  beautiful  black  hair,  which  she  had 
cut  ofF  on  coming  to  the  conciergerie  two  years 
previously,  fell  now  under  the  executioner's  scissors ; 
she  put  on  a  sort  of  jacket  of  white  flannel,  and  her 
hands  were  tied  behind  her  back.  She  was  now  ready  ; 
it  was  half  past  four  in  the  afternoon,  the  doors  opened, 
and  a  squad  of  gendarmes  surrounded  the  cart. 

The  cortege  went  by  the  "  Gros-Horloge  "  to  the 
"  Vieux-Marche."  Some  one  who  saw  Mme.  Acquet 
pass,  seated  in  the  cart  beside  the  executioner  Ferey, 
says  that  "  her  white  dress  and  short  black  hair  blow- 
ing in  her  face  made  the  paleness  of  her  skin  con- 
spicuous ;  she  was  neither  downcast  nor  bold  ;  the 
sentence  was  cried  aloud  beside  the  cart." 


274    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

She  died  calmly,  as  she  had  lived  for  months.  At 
five  o'clock  she  appeared  on  the  platform,  very  vi^hite 
and  very  tranquil  j  unresisting,  she  let  them  tie  her ; 
without  fear  or  cry  she  lay  on  the  board  vi^hich  swung 
and  carried  her  under  the  knife.  Her  head  fell  with- 
out anything  happening  to  retard  the  execution,  and 
the  authorities  congratulated  themselves  on  the  fact  in 
the  report  sent  to  Real  that  evening :  "  The  thing 
caused  no  greater  sensation  than  that  ordinarily  pro- 
duced by  similar  events  ;  the  rather  large  crowd  did 
not  give  the  slightest  trouble." 

And  those  who  had  stayed  to  watch  the  scaffold 
disappeared  before  the  gendarmes  escorting  the  men 
who  had  come  to  take  away  the  body.  A  few  fol- 
lowed it  to  the  cemetery  of  Saint-Maur  where  the 
criminals  were  usually  buried.  The  basket  was 
emptied  into  a  ditch  that  had  been  dug  not  far  from  a 
young  tree  to  which  some  unknown  hand  had  attached 
a  black  ribbon,  to  mark  the  spot  which  neither  cross 
nor  tombstone  might  adorn.  The  rain  and  wind  soon 
destroyed  this  last  sign ;  and  nothing  now  remains  to 
show  the  corner  of  earth  in  the  deserted  and  aban- 
doned cemetery  in  which  still  lies  the  body  of  the 
woman  whose  rank  in  other  times  would  have  merited 
the  traditional  epitaph  :  "  A  very  high,  noble  and 
powerful  lady." 


CHAPTER  X 

THE    CHOUANS    SET    FREE 

A  LETTER  in  a  woman's  handwriting,  addressed  to 
Timoleon  de  Combray,  HStel  de  la  Loi,  Rue  de 
Richelieu,  its  black  seal  hastily  broken,  contains  these 
words  :  "  Alas,  my  dear  cousin,  you  still  continued 
to  hope  when  all  hope  was  over.  ...  I  cannot 
leave  your  mother  and  I  am  anxious  about  M.  de 
Bonnoeil's  condition." 

This  is  all  that  we  can  glean  of  the  manner  in 
which  Mme.  Acquet's  mother  and  brothers  learned  of 
her  execution  on  October  6th.  Mme.  de  Combray 
at  least  displayed  a  good  deal  of  energy,  if  not  great 
calmness.  After  the  winter  began,  the  letters  she 
wrote  Timoleon  regained  their  natural  tone.  The 
great  sorrow  seems  to  have  been  forgotten ;  they  all 
were  leagued  together  against  Acquet,  who  still 
reigned  triumphant  at  Don  nay,  and  threatened  to  ab- 
sorb the  fortune  of  the  whole  family.  The  trial  had 
cost  an  enormous  sum.  Besides  the  money  stolen  in 
the  woods  at  Quesnay,  which  the  Marquise  had  to  re- 
fund, she  had  been  obliged  to  spend  money  freely  in 
order  to  "  corrupt  Licquet,"  for  Chauveau-Lagarde's 
fee,  for  her  advocate  Maitre  Gady  de  la  Vigne,  and 
for  Ducolombier's  journeys  to  Paris  and  Vienna  with 
the  little  girls, — the  whole  outlay  amounting  to  nearly 

275 


276    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

1 25,000  francs ;  and  as  the  farms  at  Tournebut  were 
tenantless,  while  Acquet  retained  all  the  estates  in 
lower  Normandy  and  would  not  allow  them  anything, 
the  Marquise  and  her  sons  found  their  income  re- 
duced to  almost  nothing.  There  remained  not  a 
single  crown  of  the  25,000  francs  deposited  in  August, 
1807,  with  Legrand.  All  had  been  spent  on  "neces- 
saries for  the  prisoners,  or  in  their  interests." 

Acquet  was  intractable.  When  the  time  for 
settling  up  came,  he  refused  insolently  to  pay  his 
share  of  the  lawsuit  or  for  his  children's  education. 
"  Mme.  de  Combray,  in  order  to  carry  out  her  own 
frenzied  plots,"  he  stated,  "had  foolishly  used  her 
daughter's  money  in  paying  her  accomplices,  and 
now  she  came  and  complained  that  Mme.  Acquet 
lacked  bread  and  that  she  supported  her,  besides  pay- 
ing for  the  children's  schooling.  .  .  .  Mme. 
Acquet  left  her  husband's  house  on  the  advice  of  her 
mother  who  wished  to  make  an  accomplice  of  her. 
They  took  away  the  children,  their  father  did  not 
even  know  the  place  of  their  retreat,  and  the  very 
persons  who  had  abducted  them  came  and  asked  him 
for  the  cost  of  their  maintenance." 

This  was  his  plea ;  to  which  the  Combrays  re- 
plied :  "  The  fee  of  Mme.  Acquet's  lawyer,  the 
expenses  of  the  journey  to  Vienna  and  of  the  little 
girls'  stay  in  Paris  that  they  might  beg  for  their 
mother's  pardon,  devolved,  if  not  on  the  prisoner's 
husband,  at  least  on  her  young  children  as  her  heirs  ; 
and  in  any  case  Acquet  ought  to  pay  the  bill."  But 
the   latter,  who  was   placed  in  a  very  strong  position 


THE  CHOUANS  SET  FREE  277 

by  the  services  he  had  rendered  Real  and  by  the  pro- 
tection of  Pontecoulant,  with  whom  he  had  associated 
himself,  replied  that  Chauveau-Lagarde,  while  pre- 
tending to  plead  for  Mme.  Acquet,  had  in  reality 
only  defended  Mme.  de  Combray :  "  All  Rouen 
who  heard  the  counsel's  speech  bears  witness  that  the 
daughter  was  sacrificed  to  save  the  mother.  .  .  . 
The  real  object  of  their  solicitude  had  been  the  Mar- 
quise. Certainly  they  took  very  little  interest  in  their 
sister,  and  the  moment  her  eyes  were  closed  in  death, 
were  base  enough  to  ask  for  her  funeral  expenses  in 
court,  and  hastened  to  denounce  her  children  to  the 
Minister  of  Public  Affairs  in  order  that  they  might  be 
forced  to  pay  for  the  sentence  pronounced  against 
their  mother." 

The  case  thus  stated,  the  discussion  could  only  be- 
come a  scandal.  Bonnoeil  disclosed  the  fact  that  his 
brother-in-law,  on  being  asked  by  a  third  person  what 
influences  he  could  bring  to  bear  in  order  to  obtain 
Mme.  Acquet's  pardon,  had  replied  that  "  such  steps 
offered  little  chance  of  success,  and  that  from  the 
moment  the  unhappy  woman  was  condemned,  the 
best  way  to  save  her  from  dying  on  the  scaffold, 
would  be  to  poison  her  in  prison."  A  fresh  suit  was 
begun.  The  correspondence  which  passed  between  the 
exasperated  Combrays  and  their  brother-in-law,  who 
succeeded  in  maintaining  his  self-control,  must  have 
made  all  reconciliation  impossible.  A  letter  in 
Bonnoeil's  handwriting  is  sufficient  to  illustrate  the 
style  : 


278    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

"  Is  it  charitable  for  an  old  French  chevalier,  a  de- 
fender of  the  Faith  and  of  the  Throne,  to  increase  the 
sorrows  on  which  his  two  brothers-in-law  are  feeding 
in  the  silence  of  oblivion  ?  Does  he  hope  in  his  ex- 
asperation that  he  will  be  able  to  force  them  into  a 
repetition  of  the  story  of  the  crimes  committed 
by  Desrues,  Cartouche,  Pugatscheff,  Shinder- 
hannes,  and  other  impostors,  thieves,  garrotters  and 
ruffians,  who  have  rendered  themselves  famous  by  their 
murders,  poisonings,  cruelties  and  cowardly  actions  ? 
They  promise  that,  once  their  case  is  decided,  they 
will  not  again  trouble  Sieur  Acquet  de  Ferolles." 

The  invectives  were,  to  say  the  least,  ill-timed. 
The  Combrays  had  gone  to  law  in  order  to  force  this 
man,  whom  they  compared  to  the  most  celebrated 
assassins,  to  undertake  the  education  of  their  sister's 
three  children.  These  orphans,  for  whose  schooling 
at  the  Misses  Dusaussay's  no  one  was  ready  to  pay, 
were  pitied  by  all  who  knew  of  their  situation.  Some 
pious  ladies  mentioned  it  to  the  Cardinal  Archbishop 
of  Rouen,  who  kindly  offered  to  subscribe  towards 
the  cost  of  their  education.  The  Combrays  proudly 
refused,  for  which  Acquet  naturally  blamed  them. 
"  They  think  their  nieces  would  be  dishonoured  by 
accepting  a  favour,"  he  wrote. 

Mme.  de  Combray  might  perhaps  have  yielded,  if 
any  one  had  made  her  understand  that  her  grand- 
daughters were  the  only  stake  she  had  left.  In  fact, 
since  Mme.  Acquet's  death,  no  stone  had  been  left 
unturned  to  obtain  the  old  Marquise's  pardon. 
Ducolombier  even  went  to  Navarre  to  entreat  the 
help   of  the  Empress  Josephine,  whose  credit  did  not 


THE  CHOUANS  SET  FREE  279 

stand  very  high.  We  can  understand  that  after  the 
official  notification  of  the  imperial  divorce,  and  as 
soon  as  the  great  event  became  known,  the  Combrays, 
renouncing  their  relationship  (which  was  of  the  very 
slightest)  with  the  Tascher  de  la  Pageries,  began 
immediately  to  count  in  advance  on  the  clemency  of 
the  future  Empress,  be  she  who  she  might.  When 
it  was  certain  that  an  Archduchess  was  to  succeed 
General  Beauharnais's  widow  on  the  throne  of  France, 
Ducolombier  set  out  for  Vienna  in  the  hope  of  out- 
stripping the  innumerable  host  of  those  who  went 
there  as  petitioners.  It  does  not  appear  that  he  got 
farther  than  Carlsruhe,  and  his  journey  was  absolutely 
fruitless  ;  but  it  soon  became  known  that  the  imperial 
couple  intended  making  a  triumphal  progress  through 
the  north  of  France,  ending  at  Havre  or  Rouen,  and 
it  was  then  decided  that  the  little  Acquets  should 
appear  again. 

At  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  of  May  30th,  the 
Emperor  and  Empress  arrived  at  Rouen.  Ducolom- 
bier, walking  in  front  of  the  three  little  girls,  who 
were  escorted  by  Mile.  Querey,  tried  to  force  a  pas- 
sage for  them  through  the  streets  leading  to  the  im- 
perial residence,  but  could  not  get  into  the  house,  and 
was  obliged  to  content  himself  with  handing  the  peti- 
tion, drawn  up  by  Chaveau-Legarde,  to  the  King  of 
Westphalia.  He  hoped  the  next  day  to  be  able  to 
place  the  children  on  the  Emperor's  route  as  he  was 
on  his  way  to  visit  some  spinning  mills ;  but  as  soon  as 
he  was  in  the  street  with  the  orphans,  he  learnt  that 
Napoleon  had  inspected  the  factories  at  half  past  three 


28o    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

in  the  morning,  and  that  his  departure  was  fixed  for 
ten  o'clock.  Branzon,  a  revenue  collector  and  friend 
of  Licquet's  procured  the  little  Acquets  a  card  from  the 
prefect,  by  showing  which  they  were  allowed  to  wait  at 
the  door  of  the  Emperor's  residence.  We  quote  the 
very  words  of  the  letter  written  the  same  day  by 
Ducolombier  to  Bonnceil  and  the  old  Marquise : 

"  Mile.  Querey  and  the  three  little  girls  were  per- 
mitted to  wait  at  the  door  of  the  prefecture  where,  as 
you  must  know,  they  allow  no  one.  As  soon  as  their 
Majesties*  carriage  came  out,  little  Caroline  cried  out 
to  the  Empress.  The  Emperor  lowered  the  window 
to  take  the  petition,  and  handed  it  to  the  Empress,  as 
it  was  meant  for  her.  The  Empress  bent  forward  in 
order  to  see  them.     .     .     ." 

This  time  their  confidence  was  unbounded.  The 
old  Marquise  was  already  congratulated  on  her  ap^ 
proaching  liberation  ;  but  days  passed  and  nothing 
more  was  heard  of  it.  They  waited  patiently  for  a 
year,  their  hopes  growing  fainter  each  day,  and  when 
it  became  only  too  evident  that  the  petition  had  had 
no  effect,  Timoleon  ventured  to  remind  the  Empress 
of  it,  and  drew  up  in  his  own  name  a  fresh  request 
for  his  mother's  pardon,  with  no  better  result  than  be- 
fore. A  supreme  and  useless  effort  was  made  on  the 
30th  of  August,  18 13,  when  Marie  Louise  was  Em- 
press-Queen-Regent. At  this  time  Bonnceil  had  at 
length  been  let  out  of  prison,  where  he  had  been  un- 
justly detained  since  August,  1807.  He  had  not  ap- 
peared before  the  court,  and  consequently  was  not 


THE  CHOUANS  SET  FREE  281 

condemned,  but  was  detained  as  a  "  precautionary 
measure."  As  his  health  was  much  impaired  by  his 
stay  at  the  conciergerie,  the  prefect  took  it  upon  him- 
self to  have  him  removed,  and  placed  him  at  Rouen 
under  the  supervision  of  the  police. 

For  there  he  could  at  least  keep  himself  informed 
of  what  was  going  on.  If  the  newspapers  gave  but 
little  news,  he  could  still  collect  the  rumours  of  the 
town.  Doubtless  he  was  the  first  to  advise  his  mother 
to  submit  to  her  fate  ;  and  from  this  very  moment  the 
Marquise  displayed  an  astonishing  serenity,  as  if  she 
in  fact  foresaw  the  fall  of  him  whom  she  considered 
her  personal  enemy.  She  had  accustomed  herself 
very  quickly  to  life  in  the  prison  to  which  she  had 
been  transferred  in  18 13.  The  rules  were  not  very 
strict  for  those  inmates  who  had  a  little  money  to 
spend;  she  received  visitors,  sent  to  Tournebut  for 
her  backgammon-board  and  her  book  of  rules,  and 
calmly  awaited  the  long-hoped-for  thunderbolt. 

It  fell  at  length,  and  the  old  Chouan  must  have 
flushed  with  triumph  when  she  heard  that  Bonaparte 
was  crushed.  What  a  sudden  change  !  In  less  than 
a  day,  the  prisoner  became  again  the  venerable  Mar- 
quise de  Combray,  a  victim  to  her  devotion  to  the 
royal  cause,  a  heroine,  a  martyr,  a  saint ;  while  at  the 
other  end  of  Normandy,  Acquet  de  Ferolles,  who  had 
at  last  decided  to  take  in  his  three  children,  felt  the 
ground  tremble  under  his  feet,  and  hurriedly  made  his 
preparations  for  flight.  In  their  eagerness  to  make 
themselves  acceptable  to  the  Combrays,  people  "who 
would  not  have  raised  a  finger  to  help  them  when 


282    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

they  were  overwhelmed  with  misfortune,"  now  re- 
vealed to  them  things  that  had  hitherto  been  hidden 
from  them ;  and  thus  the  Marquise  and  her  sons 
learned  how  Senator  Pontecoulant,  out  of  hatred  for 
CafFarelli,  "  whom  he  wished  to  ruin,"  had  under- 
taken, "with  the  aid  of  Acquet  de  Ferolles,"  to 
hand  over  d'Ache  to  assassins.  Proscribed  royalists 
emerged  on  all  sides  from  the  holes  where  they  had 
been  burrowing  for  the  last  fifteen  years.  There  was  a 
spirit  of  retaliation  in  the  air.  Every  one  was  making 
up  his  account  and  writing  out  the  bill.  In  this  home 
of  the  Chouannerie,  where  hatred  ran  rife  and  there 
were  so  many  bitter  desires  for  revenge,  a  terrible  re- 
action set  in.  The  short  notes,  which  the  Marquise 
exchanged  with  her  sons  and  servants  during  the  last 
few  days  of  her  captivity,  expressed  neither  joy  at 
the  Princes'  return  nor  happiness  at  her  own  restora- 
tion to  liberty.  They  might  be  summed  up  in  these 
words :  "  It  is  our  turn  now,"  and  the  germ  of  the 
dark  history  of  the  Restoration  and  the  revolutions 
which  followed  it  is  contained  in  the  outpourings  of 
this  embittered  heart,  which  nothing  save  vengeance 
could  henceforth  satisfy. 

On  Sunday,  May  ist,  1814,  at  the  hour  when  Louis 
XVIII  was  to  enter  Saint  Ouen,  the  doors  of  the 
prison  were  opened  for  the  Marquise  de  Combray, 
who  slept  the  following  night  at  her  house  in  the  Rue 
des  Carmelites.  The  next  day  at  1.30  P.  m.  she  set 
out  for  Tournebut  with  Mile.  Querey ;  her  bailiff, 
Leclerc,  came  as  far  as  Rouen  to  fetch  her  in  his 
trap.     All  the  public  conveyances  were  overcrowded ; 


THE  CHOUANS  SET  FREE  283 

on  the  roads  leading  to  Paris  there  was  an  uninter- 
rupted stream  of  vehicles  of  all  sorts,  of  cavaliers  and 
of  foot  passengers,  all  hurrying  to  see  the  King's  re- 
turn to  his  capital.  Bonnoeil,  who  was  at  last  deliv- 
ered from  police  supervision,  had  to  set  out  on  foot 
for  Tournebut ;  he  walked  the  distance  during  the 
night,  and  arrived  in  the  morning  to  find  his  mother 
already  installed  there  and  making  an  inspection  of 
the  despoiled  old  chateau  which  she  had  never  thought 
to  see  again.  The  astonishing  reversions  of  fate 
make  one  think  of  the  success  which  the  opera  "  La 
Dame  Blanche  "  had  some  years  later.  This  charm- 
ing work  sang  their  own  history  to  these  nobles  who 
were  still  smarting,  and  recalled  to  them  their  ruined 
past.  The  abandoned  "  Chateau  d'Avenel,"  the 
"poor  Dame  Marguerite"  spinning  in  the  deserted 
halls  and  dreaming  of  her  masters,  the  mysterious 
being  who  watched  over  the  destinies  of  the  noble 
family,  and  the  amusing  revival  of  those  last  vestiges 
of  feudal  times,  the  bailiff,  the  bell  in  the  turret,  the 
gallant  paladin,  the  knight's  banner — all  these  things 
saddened  our  grandmothers  by  arousing  the  melan- 
choly spectre  of  the  good  old  times. 

At  the  beginning  of  August,  18 14,  Guerin-Bruslart, 
who  had  become  M.  le  Chevalier  de  Bruslard,  Field 
Marshal  in  the  King's  army,  attracted  his  Majesty's 
attention  to  the  survivors  of  the  affair  of  Quesnay. 
He  took  Le  Chevalier's  son,  aged  twelve  years,  to  the 
Tuileries,  and  the  King  accorded  him  a  pension  and 
a  scholarship  at  one  of  the  royal  colleges.  The  very 
same  day  Louis  XVHI  signed  a  royal  pardon,  which 


284    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

the  Court  of  Rouen  ratified  a  few  days  later,  by  which 
Mme.  de  Combray's  sentence  was  annulled.  On 
September  5th  the  Marquise  saw  her  wildest  dream 
realised  and  was  presented  to  the  King — a  fact  which 
was  mentioned  in  the  Moniteur  of  the  following  day. 

This  signal  favour  rallied  many  to  the  Combrays. 
Denunciations  of  Acquet  and  his  friends  were  heard 
on  all  sides.  The  letters  written  at  this  period  from 
Bonnoeil  to  his  brother  testify  to  the  astonishment 
they  felt  at  these  revelations.  They  made  a  fresh  dis- 
covery every  day.  "  M.  Bruslard  told  me  the  other 
day  that  La  Vaubadon  wished  to  have  him  arrested, 
but  that  he  took  care  not  to  fall  into  the  trap  she  had 
set  for  him."  "  With  regard  to  Licquet,  he  knew 
d^Ache  well  and  had  made  up  to  him  before  the  affair 
with  Georges,  believing  at  that  time  that  there  would 
be  a  change  of  government."  "  It  is  quite  certain 
that  it  was  Senator  Pontecoulant  who  had  d'Ache 
killed ;  Frotte's  death  was  partly  due  to  him."  "  With 
regard  to  Acquet,  M.  de  Ri voire  told  Placene  that  he 
had  been  seen  in  the  temple  about  six  years  ago,  and 
that  every  one  there  considered  him  a  spy  and  an  in- 
former.    ..." 

Thus,  little  by  little  Mme.  de  Combray  arrived  at 
the  conclusion  that  all  her  misfortunes  had  been  caused 
by  her  enemies'  hatred.  In  18 15  a  biographer  pub- 
lished a  life  of  the  Marquise,  which  was  preceded  by 
a  dedication  to  herself  which  she  had  evidently  dic- 
tated, and  which  placed  her  high  up  in  the  list  of  roy- 
alist martyrs. 

This  halo  pleased  her  immensely.     She  was  present 


THE  CHOUANS  SET  FREE  285 

at  the  fetes  given  at  the  Rouen  prefecture,  where  she 
walked  triumphantly — still  holding  herself  very  erect 
and  wearing  lilies  in  her  hair — through  the  very  halls 
into  which  she  had  once  been  dragged  handcuffed  by 
Savoye-Rollin's  gaolers.  At  dinners  where  she  was 
an  honoured  guest  she  would  recount,  with  astonish- 
ing calmness,  her  impressions  of  the  pillory  and  the 
prisons.  She  sent  a  confidential  agent  to  Donnay 
"to  obtain  news  of  the  Sieur  Acquet,"  who  was  not 
at  ail  satisfied  and  by  no  means  at  ease,  as  we  can  well 
imagine.  It  was  said  that  he  had  sent  for  his  sister  to 
come  and  take  care  of  his  three  children,  the  eldest 
of  whom  was  nearly  twenty  years  of  age.  Acquet 
pretended  to  be  ill  in  order  to  defer  his  departure  from 
Donnay.  He  finally  quitted  Normandy  early  in  the 
autumn  of  18 14,  taking  with  him  his  three  daughters, 
"  whom  he  counted  on  marrying  off  in  his  own 
home."  "  He  is  without  house  or  home,"  wrote 
Mme.  de  Combray,  "  and  possesses  nothing  but  the 
shame  by  which  he  is  covered."  Acquet  de  Ferolles 
settled  at  Saint-Hilaire-de-Tulmont,  where  he  died  on 
April  6th,  18 15. 

With  the  Hundred  Days  came  another  sudden 
change.  At  the  first  rumour  of  Bonaparte's  landing, 
Mme.  de  Combray  set  out  for  the  coast  and  crossed 
to  England.  If  the  alarm  was  intense,  it  lasted  but  a 
short  time.  In  July,  18 1 5,  the  Marquise  returned  to 
Tournebut,  which  she  busied  herself  with  repairing. 
She  found  scope  for  her  energy  in  directing  the  work- 
men, in  superintending  to  the  smallest  detail  the  ad- 
ministration  of  her  estate,  and   in   looking  after  her 


286    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

household  with  the  particularity  of  former  times. 
Although  Louis  XVUFs  Jacobinism  seems  to  have 
been  the  first  thing  that  disillusioned  the  old  royalist, 
she  was  none  the  less  the  Lady  of  Tournebut,  and 
within  the  limits  of  her  estate  she  could  still  believe 
that  she  had  returned  to  the  days  before  1789.  She 
still  had  her  seat  at  church,  and  her  name  was  to  be 
found  in  18 19  inscribed  on  the  bell  at  Aubevoye  of 
which  she  was  patroness. 

Mme.  de  Combray  never  again  quitted  Tournebut, 
where  she  lived  with  her  son  Bonnceil,  waited  upon 
by  Catherine  Querey,  who  had  been  faithful  to  her  in 
her  misfortunes.  Except  for  this  faithful  girl,  the 
Marquise  had  made  a  clean  sweep  of  all  her  old  serv- 
ants. None  of  them  are  to  be  found  among  the  per- 
sons who  surrounded  her  during  the  Restoration. 
These  were  a  maid,  Henriette  Lerebour,  a  niece  of 
Mile.  Querey ;  a  cook,  a  coachman  and  a  footman. 
During  the  years  that  followed,  there  was  an  inces- 
sant coming  and  going  of  workmen  at  Tournebut. 
In  1823  the  chateau  and  its  surrounding  walls  were 
still  undergoing  repairs.  In  the  middle  of  October 
of  the  same  year,  Mme.  de  Combray,  who  was  worn 
out,  took  to  her  bed.  On  the  morning  of  Thursday, 
the  23d,  it  was  reported  that  she  was  very  ill,  and  two 
village  women  were  engaged  to  nurse  her.  At  eight 
o'clock  in  the  evening  the  tolling  of  the  bells  an- 
nounced that  the  Marquise  was  no  more. 

Her  age  was  eighty-one  years  and  nine  months. 
When  the  judge  called  on  Friday,  at  Bonnoeirs 
special  request,  to  affix  seals  to  her  effects,  he  asked 


THE  CHOUANS  SET  FREE  287 

to  be  taken  first  into  the  chamber  of  death,  where  he 
saw  the  Marquise  lying  in  her  painted  wooden  bed, 
hung  with  chintz  curtains.  The  funeral  took  place 
at  the  church  of  Aubevoye,  the  poor  of  the  village 
forming  an  escort  to  the  coffin  which  the  men  carried 
on  their  shoulders.  After  the  service  it  was  laid  in  a 
grave  dug  under  a  large  dark  tree  at  the  entrance  to  the 
cemetery.  The  tomb,  which  is  carefully  kept,  bears 
to  this  day  a  quite  legible  inscription  setting  forth  in 
clumsy  Latin  the  Marquise  de  Combray's  extraordi- 
nary history. 

The  liquidation  of  her  debts,  which  followed  on 
her  decease  and  the  division  of  her  property,  brought 
Acquet  de  Ferolles'  daughters  to  Tournebut,  all  three 
of  whom  were  well  married.  In  making  an  inventory 
of  the  furniture  in  the  chateau,  they  found  amongst 
things  forgotten  in  the  attic  the  harp  on  which  their 
mother  had  played  when  as  a  young  girl  she  had  lived 
at  Tournebut,  and  a  saddle  which  the  "  dragoon " 
may  have  used  on  her  nocturnal  rides  towards  the  hill 
of  Authevernes  in  pursuit  of  coaches. 

Mme.  de  Combray*s  sons  kept  Tournebut,  and 
Bonnoeil  continued  to  live  there.  There  are  many 
people  in  Aubevoye  who  remember  him.  He  was  a 
tall  old  man,  with  almost  the  figure  of  an  athlete, 
though  quite  bowed  and  bent.  His  eyebrows  were 
grizzled  and  bushy,  his  eyes  large  and  very  dark,  his 
complexion  sunburned.  He  was  somewhat  gloomy, 
and  seemed  to  care  for  nothing  but  to  talk  with  a  very 
faded  and  wrinkled  old  woman  in  a  tall  goffered  cap, 
who  was  an  object  of  veneration  to  everybody.     This 


288     THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

was  Mile.  Querey.  All  were  aware  she  had  been 
Mme.  de  Combray's  confidante  and  knew  all  the 
Marquise's  secrets  :  and  she  was  often  seen  talking  at 
great  length  to  Bonnoeil  about  the  past. 

Bonnc3eil  died  at  Tournebut  in  1846,  at  the  age  of 
eighty-four,  and  the  manor  of  Marillac  did  not  long 
outlast  him.  Put  up  for  sale  in  1856,  it  was  demol- 
ished in  the  following  year  and  replaced  by  a  large 
and  splendid  villa.  While  the  walls  of  the  old  cha- 
teau were  being  demolished,  the  peasants  of  Aubevoye, 
who  had  so  often  listened  to  the  legends  concerning 
it,  displayed  great  curiosity  as  to  the  mysteries  which 
the  demolition  would  disclose.  Nothing  was  discov- 
ered but  a  partly  filled  up  subterranean  passage,  which 
seemed  to  run  towards  the  small  chateau.  The 
secret  of  the  other  hiding-places  had  long  been  known. 
A  careful  examination  of  the  old  dwelling  produced 
only  one  surprise.  A  portmanteau  containing  3,000 
francs  in  crowns  and  double-louis  was  found  in  a 
dark  attic.  Mme.  de  Combray's  grandchildren 
knew  so  little  of  the  drama  of  their  house,  that  no 
one  thought  of  connecting  this  find  with  the  affairs  of 
Quesnay,  of  which  they  had  scarcely  ever  heard.  It 
seems  probable  that  this  portmanteau  belonged  to  the 
lawyer  Lefebre  and  was  hidden  by  him,  unknown  to 
the  Marquise,  in  the  hope  of  being  able  to  recover  it 
later  on. 

A  very  few  words  will  suffice  to  tell  the  fate  of  the 
other  actors  in  this  drama.  Licquet  was  unfortunate ; 
but  first  of  all  he  asked  for  the  cross  of  the  Legion  of 
Honour.     "  I  have  served  the  government  for  twenty 


THE  CHOUANS  SET  FREE  289 

years,"  he  wrote  to  Real.  "  I  bristle  with  titles.  I 
am  the  father  of  a  family  and  am  looked  up  to  by  the 
authorities.  My  only  ambition  is  honour,  and  I  am 
bold  enough  to  ask  for  a  sign.  Will  you  be  kind 
enough  to  obtain  it  for  me  ?  "  Did  Real  not  dare  to 
stand  sponsor  for  such  a  candidate  ?  Did  they  think 
that  the  cross,  given  hitherto  so  parsimoniously  to  civil- 
ians, was  not  meant  for  the  police  ?  Licquet  was 
obliged  to  wait  in  patience.  In  the  hope  of  increasing 
his  claims  to  the  honour  he  coveted,  he  went  in  quest 
of  new  achievements,  and  had  the  good  fortune  to  dis- 
cover a  second  attack  on  a  coach,  far  less  picturesque, 
as  a  matter  of  fact,  than  the  one  to  which  he  owed 
his  fame,  but  which  he  undertook  to  work  up  like  a 
master,  and  did  it  so  well,  by  dint  of  disguises,  forged 
letters,  surprised  confidences,  the  invention  of  imagi- 
nary persons,  and  other  melodramatic  tricks,  that  he 
succeeded  in  producing  at  the  Criminal  Court  at 
Evreux  seven  prisoners  against  whom  the  evidence 
was  so  well  concocted  that  five  at  least  were  in  danger 
of  losing  their  heads.  But  when  the  imperial  Pro- 
curator arrived  at  the  place,  instead  of  accepting  the 
work  as  completed,  he  carefully  examined  the  papers 
referring  to  the  inquiry.  Disgusted  at  the  means 
used  to  drag  confessions  from  the  accused,  and  indig- 
nant that  his  name  should  have  been  associated  with 
so  repulsive  a  comedy,  he  asked  for  explanations. 
Licquet  attempted  to  brazen  it  out,  but  was  scornfully 
told  to  hold  his  peace.  Wounded  to  the  quick,  he 
began  a  campaign  of  recriminations,  raillery  and  in- 
vective against   the   magistrates  of  Eure,  which  was 


290    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

only  ended  by  the  unanimous  acquittal  of  the  seven 
innocent  persons  whom  he  had  delivered  over  to 
justice,  and  whose  release  the  Procurator  himself 
generously  demanded. 

The  blow  fell  all  the  heavier  on  Licquet  as  he  was 
at  the  time  deeply  compromised  in  the  frauds  of  his 
friend  Branzon,  a  collector  at  Rouen,  whose  malver- 
sations had  caused  the  ruin  of  Savoye-Rollin.  The 
prefect's  innocence  was  firmly  established,  but  Bran- 
zon, who  had  already  been  imprisoned  as  a  Chouan 
in  the  Temple,  and  whose  history  must  have  been  a 
very  varied  one,  was  condemned  to  twelve  years'  im- 
prisonment in  chains. 

This  also  was  a  blow  to  Licquet.  Realising,  dur- 
ing the  early  days  of  the  Restoration,  that  the  game 
he  had  played  had  brought  him  more  enemies  than 
friends,  he  thought  it  wise  to  leave  Rouen,  and  like 
so  many  others  lose  himself  among  the  police  in  Paris. 
Doubtless  he  was  not  idle  while  he  was  there,  and  if 
the  fire  of  187 1  had  not  destroyed  the  archives  of  the 
prefecture,  it  would  have  been  interesting  to  search 
for  traces  of  him.  We  seem  to  recognise  his  methods 
in  the  strangely  dubious  affair  of  the  false  dauphin, 
Mathurin  Bruneau.  This  obscure  intrigue  was  con- 
nected with  Rouen ;  his  friend  Branzon,  who  was 
detained  at  Bicetre,  was  the  manager  of  it.  A  certain 
Joseph  Paulin  figured  in  it — a  strange  person,  who 
boasted  of  having  received  the  son  of  Louis  XVI  at 
the  door  of  the  temple  and,  for  this  reason,  was  a 
partisan  of  two  dauphins.  Joseph  Paulin  was,  in  my 
opinion,  a  very  cunning  detective,  who  was,  moreover. 


THE  CHOUANS  SET  FREE  291 

charged  with  the  surveillance  of  the  believers,  sincere 
or  otherwise,  in  the  survival  of  Louis  XVII.  In 
order  the  better  to  gain  their  confidence,  he  pretended 
to  have  had  a  hand  in  the  young  King's  flight.  With 
the  exception  of  a  few  plausible  allegations,  the  ac- 
counts he  gave  of  his  wonderful  adventures  do  not 
bear  investigation.  What  makes  us  think  that  he  was 
Licquet's  pupil,  or  that  at  least  he  had  some  connec- 
tion with  the  police  of  Rouen,  is  that  in  18 17,  at  the 
time  of  the  Bruneau  intrigue,  we  find  him  marrying 
the  woman,  Delaitre,  aged  forty-six,  and  living  on  an 
allowance  from  the  parish  and  a  sum  left  him  "  by  a 
person  who  had  died  at  Bicetre."  The  woman 
Delaitre  seemed  to  be  identical  with  the  spy  whom 
Licquet  had  so  cleverly  utilised. 

Joseph  Paulin  died  in  1842;  his  wife  survived  him 
twenty  years,  dying  at  last  in  the  Rue  Croix  de  Per 
at  the  age  of  ninety-one.  Up  to  the  time  of  her 
death  she  received  a  small  pension  from  the  town. 
As  to  Licquet,  he  lived  to  one  hundred — but  without 
any  decoration — in  his  lodging  in  the  Rue  Saint-Le. 
The  old  man's  walks  in  the  streets  which  were  so 
familiar  to  him,  must  have  been  rich  in  memories. 
The  "  Gros-Horloge  "  under  which  the  tumbrils  had 
passed ;  the  "  Vieux-Marche,"  where  so  many  heads 
had  fallen  which  the  executioner  owed  to  him;  Ic 
Faubourg  Bouvreuil,  where  the  graves  of  his  victims 
grew  green ;  Bicetre,  the  old  conciergerie,  the  palace 
itself,  which  he  could  see  from  his  windows, — all 
these  objects  must  have  called  up  to  his  mind  painful 
recollections.     The  certificate  of  his   death,    which 


292    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

bears  the  date  February  7,  1855,   simply    describes 
him  as  an  ex-advocate. 

Querelle,  whose  denunciation  ruined  Georges  Ca- 
doudal,  was  set  at  liberty  at  the  end  of  a  year.  Be- 
sides his  life,  Desmarets  had  promised  him  the  sum 
of  80,000  francs  to  pay  his  debts  with,  but  as  they 
were  in  no  hurry  to  hand  him  the  money,  his  credi- 
tors lost  patience  and  had  him  shut  up  in  Sainte- 
Pelagie.  Desmarets  at  last  decided  to  pay  up,  and 
Querelle  was  sent  to  Piemont,  where  he  lived  on  a 
small  pension  from  the  government.  In  18 14  we 
find  those  of  Georges'  accomplices  who  had  escaped 
the  scaffold — among  whom  were  Hozier  and  Amand 
Gaillard, — scattered  among  the  prisons  of  the  kingdom, 
in  the  fortresses  of  Ham,  Joux,  and  Bouillon.  Others 
who  had  been  sent  under  surveillance  forty  leagues 
from  Paris  and  the  seacoast,  reappeared,  ruined  by 
ten  years  of  enforced  idleness,  threats  and  annoyances. 
Vannier  the  lawyer  died  in  prison  at  Brest ;  Bureau 
de  Placene,  who  was  let  out  of  prison  at  the  Restor- 
ation, assisted  Bruslard  in  the  distribution  of  the 
rewards  granted  by  the  King  to  those  who  had  helped 
on  the  good  cause.  Allain,  who  had  been  condemned 
to  death  for  contumacy  by  the  decree  of  Rouen,  gave 
himself  up  in  18 15.  He  was  immediately  set  free, 
and  a  pension  granted  him.  Seeing  which,  Joseph 
Buquet,  who  was  in  the  same  predicament,  presented 
himself,  and  being  acquitted  immediately,  returned  to 
Donnay,  dug  up  the  43,000  francs  remaining  over  from 
the  sum  stolen  in  1807,  and  lived  "  rich  and  despised." 
As  to  the  girl  Dupont,  who  had  been  Mme.  Acquet's 


THE  CHOUANS  SET  FREE  293 

confidante,  she  was  kept  in  prison  till  18 14.  Being 
released  on  the  King's  return  she  immediately  took 
refuge  in  a  convent  where  she  spent  the  rest  of  her 
life. 

Mme.  de  Vaubadon,  who  lived  disguised  under  the 
name  of  Tourville,  which  had  been  her  mother's, 
died  in  misery  in  a  dirty  lodging-house  at  Belleville 
on  January  23,  1848  ;  her  body  was  borne  on  the 
following  day  to  the  parish  cemetery,  where  the  old 
register  proves  that  no  one  bought  a  corner  of  ground 
for  her  where  she  could  rest  in  peace.  M.  de  Vauba- 
don had  died  eight  years  previously,  having  pardoned 
her  some  years  before.  ^ 

Certain  of  the  inhabitants  of  Saint-Lo  still  remem- 
ber the  tall  old  man,  always  gloomy  and  with  a  pale 
complexion,  who  seemed  to  have  only  one  idea,  and 
who,  to  the  last  day  of  his  life,  loved  and  defended 
the  woman  to  whom  he  had  given  his  name.  As  for 
Foison,  the  murderer,  he  was  made  a  lieutenant  and 
received  the  cross  of  the  Legion  of  Honour.  Caf- 
farelli,  to  whose  lot  it  fell  to  present  it  to  him,  excused 
himself  on  a  plea  of  necessary  absence.  M.  Lance, 
the  Secretary-General  for  the  prefecture,  who  was 
obliged  to  take  his  place,  could  not,  as  he  bestowed 
the  decoration,  refrain  "  from  letting  him  observe  the 
disgust  he  felt  for  his  person,  and  the  shame  he  ex- 
perienced at  seeing  the  star  of  the  brave  thus  pro- 
faned." M.  Lance  was  dismissed  at  the  instance  of 
Foison,  who,  soon  afterwards,  was  made  an  officer, 
and  despatched  to  the  army  in  Spain,  whither  his  rep- 
utation had  preceded  him.     Tradition  assures  us  that 


294    THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

an  avenger  had  reserved  for  him  a  death  similar  to 
d'Ache's,  and  that  he  was  found  on  the  road  one 
morning  pierced  with  bullets.  Nothing  is  farther 
from  the  truth.  Foison  became  a  captain  and  lived 
till  1843. 

D' Ache's  family,  which  returned  to  Gournay  after 
Georges  Cadoudal's  execution,  was  disturbed  afresh  at 
Mme.  de  Combray's  arrest.  As  we  have  said  before, 
Licquet  had  had  Jean  Baptiste  de  Caqueray  (who  had 
married  Louise  d'Ache  in  1806)  brought  handcuffed 
into  Rouen,  but  had  scarcely  examined  him.  "  Ca- 
queray," he  wrote,  "  is  quite  innocent ;  he  quarrelled 
with  his  father-in-law ; "  and  he  dismissed  him  with 
this  remark :  "  If  only  he  had  known  the  prey  he 
was  allowing  to  escape  !  "  Up  to  1814  Caqueray  did 
not  again  attract  the  attention  of  the  police.  At  the 
Restoration  he  was  made  a  captain  of  gendarmes. 
His  wife  Louise  d'Ache  was  in  18 15  appointed 
lady-in-waiting  to  the  Duchess  of  Bourbon,  by  whom 
she  had  in  part  been  brought  up,  being  on  her 
mother's  side  the  niece  of  the  gentle  Vicomte  de 
Roquefeuille,  who  had  previously  "  consoled  the 
Duchess  so  tenderly  for  the  desertion  of  her  incon- 
stant husband."  Louise  d'Ache  died  in  18 17,  and 
her  sister  Alexandrine,  who  was  unmarried,  was  in 
her  turn  summoned  to  the  Princess,  and  took  the  title 
of  Comtesse  d'Ache.  In  spite  of  the  Princes' 
favour,  Caqueray  remained  a  captain  of  gendarmes 
till  he  left  the  service  in  1830.  It  was  only  then 
made  known  that  in  1804,  at  the  time  of  Querelle's 
disclosures  and  of  the  journey  undertaken  by  Savary 


THE  CHOUANS  SET  FREE  295 

to  Biville,  to  surprise  a  fourth  landing  of  conspirators, 
it  was  he,  Jean-Baptiste  de  Caqueray,  who,  warned 
by  a  messenger  from  Georges  that  "  all  were  com- 
promised," started  from  Gournay  on  horseback, 
reached  the  farm  of  La  Poterie  in  twelve  hours, 
crossed  three  lines  of  gendarmes,  and  signalled  to  the 
English  brig  which  was  tacking  along  the  coast,  to 
stand  out  to  sea.  Caqueray  immediately  remounted 
his  horse,  endured  the  fire  of  an  ambuscade,  flung 
himself  into  the  forest  of  Eu,  and  succeeded  in  reach- 
ing Gournay  before  his  absence  had  been  noticed,  and 
just  in  time  to  receive  a  visit  from  Captain  Manginot, 
who,  as  we  have  already  related,  sent  him  to  the 
Temple  with  Mme.  d'Ache  and  Louise. 

Caqueray  died  in  1834,  leaving  several  children 
quite  unprovided  for.  They  were,  however,  adopted 
by  their  grandmother,  d'Ache's  widow,  who  survived 
her  daughters  and  son-in-law.  She  was  small  and  had 
never  been  pretty,  but  had  very  distinguished  and  im- 
posing manners.  She  is  said  to  have  made  the  fol- 
lowing answer  to  a  great  judge  who,  at  the  time  of 
her  arrest,  asked  her  where  her  husband  was  :  "  You 
doubtless  da  not  know.  Monsieur,  whom  you  are  ad- 
dressing." From  that  time  they  ceased  questioning 
her.  She  lived  on  till  1836.  She  was  never  heard  to 
complain,  though  she  and  her  family  had  lived  in 
great  poverty  and  known  constant  anxiety.  She  had 
lost  her  money,  and  her  husband  had  died  at  the  hand 
of  a  treacherous  assassin.  All  her  children  had  gone 
before  her,  and  in  spite  of  all  her  misfortunes,  and 
old  though  she  was,  she  still  strove  to  bring  up  her 


296     THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  COMBRAYS 

grandchildren  "  to  love  their  lawful  King,*'  for  whose 
sake  she  had  now  nothing  left  to  sacrifice. 

Perhaps  in  the  course  of  that  tragic  night  when 
the  defeated  Napoleon  found  himself  alone  in  deserted 
Fontainebleau,  the  great  Emperor's  mind  may  have  re- 
verted jealously  to  those  stubborn  royalists  whom 
neither  their  Princes'  apathy  nor  the  certainty  of 
never  being  rewarded  could  daunt.  At  that  very  mo- 
ment the  generals  whom  he  had  loaded  with  titles  and 
wealth  were  hastening  to  meet  the  Bourbons.  He 
had  not  one  friend  left  among  the  hundred  million 
people  he  had  governed  in  the  day  of  his  power.  His 
mameluke  had  quitted  him,  his  valet  had  fled.  And 
if  he  thought  of  Georges  guillotined  in  the  Place  de 
la  Greve,  of  Le  Chevalier  who  fell  at  the  wall  at 
Grenelle,  of  d'Ache  stabbed  on  the  road,  he  must 
also  have  thought  of  the  speech  ascribed  to  Crom- 
well :     "  Who  would  do  the  like  for  me  ?  " 

And  perhaps  of  all  his  pangs  this  was  the  cruellest 
and  most  vengeful.  His  cause  must,  in  its  turn,  be 
sanctified  by  misfortune  to  gain  its  fanatics  and  its 
martyrs. 


FINIS 


NIA  LIBRARY 


Ill 


m\ 


i 


